They're All Monsters
by knittcapkneepad
Summary: A graveyard shift is what Len wanted. She wanted peace and quiet, but she soon finds out that there's more haunting the diner than the whispered gossip of murders most foul. The dead don't stay dead at Freddy Fazbears' and Len will have to sacrifice everything just to survive five nights at Freddy's.
1. The Tour

_It's been a while. I don't know if I'll turn this into a full works, I might. I just had the idea and thought it'd be nice to write something up. Hope you enjoy!_

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With a flip of a switch, the dining room illuminated.

"Now, I know it doesn't look like much," the man said as he pried open the electrical box, "but once a buyer is found, this place will get the makeover it needs. Until then, the current owners just need someone to look after the place at night. Sometimes we get vandals… angsty, little teens trying to scare their friends, you know how it goes."

The man flipped the breaker for the security room before turning to face the newest hire. She stood in the doorway with the worn pages of the security manual pinched between her fingers. Her eyes flickered back and forth, line after line, as she skimmed the expansive list of rules and warnings all new hires had to read before accepting the job. Luckily, he was just the maintenance worker kept around to make sure this place did not fall to complete ruin. The only training he got was a quick tour and a push-broom. His eyes rose to the cobwebs strung from the corners of the rooms like the streamers that collected dust. A deep breath puffed his chest before he gave off a sigh.

"… death and dismemberment?"

The maintenance worker turned his attention to the girl who had since lowered the manual. Looks like she reached the clause everyone hesitated at.

"It's just a precaution," he told her as he pinched together his shoulders. "Just like every pack of peanuts has a warning for containing nuts. The owners just want to make sure their bases are covered. The animatronics have got quite a few jutting parts. I've been restricted from tampering with them until the new buyer sees them. So long as you don't decide to wind up the old boys, you'll be fine."

Her lips pursed in thought before she continued reading.

"Mike said your name was… Martha?"

"Magdalena," she corrected him. "Len is fine."

"Well, Len," the man said. "I'm glad all the stories of this place haven't scared you off. And, it's only for a week, you know. Unless you want to sign up for more time. College kid like you could probably use the extra cash."

Len snorted a laugh. "I think I'd have to work here the rest of my life to get the money I need."

"Never say never," the man said with a broadening smile. "Who knows? You may like it here."

As he continued his work with the breakers, Len moved further into the dining hall. The chairs were lined against the long and narrow tables. Party hats scattered the length of the table covers an fell into the same disarray the rest of the room had. Before she could further her curious wondering, Len stopped before the stairs of the stage and stared up at three of the possessions she was charged with overseeing.

"Ah," the maintenance worker called from the side of the breaker. "First time seeing them, huh?"

Len gave a silent nod as her attention was focused on mattered fur and frozen, electric smiles. A mess of wires wove through the holes in the animatronics' suits like thriving weeds and the sight of gaping, hollow eyes brought a chill to course down her spine.

With her curiosity sated, she quickly returned to the safety of the diner's foyer.

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The maintenance worker took her room to room and showed her the layout of the cameras and audio feeds. The tour only stopped once as he took out a stool to check the camera mounted in the kitchen.

"Damn rats keep messing with the wires," he mumbled before hopping off the stool. He wiped off the dust from his hands and heaved a sigh. "I guess for the time being, you'll only have the audio for the kitchen."

"One less thing to worry about, huh?" Len crooked a smile.

"Pffst, maybe for you," he returned.

He took her down a long and narrow hallway littered with old posters and fallen streamers. With careful steps, Len danced around the discarded memorabilia from times since gone as the maintenance worker told her more about the diner that once was.

The fond words he spoke of it could not brighten the wallpaper that had dulled and curled from the walls just as it could not bring her to imagine this place housing any amount of happiness. The air was thick and stale as though she crept now through the crypts of childhood longing. A sourness of mildew stained the carpet beneath the soles of her sneakers. It took everything in her not to imagine what sort of bugs and vermin infested the nooks, crannies, and dark corners that the lack of light did not allow her to see.

"Here we are," the man said, calling her from the depths of her disgust. "Your throne awaits."

His hand patted the peeling leather of the security room chair.

Len took a deep breath and sat down in the chair while the worker booted up the computer screens.

"We've got a few training tapes for you to listen to, if you want. Mike should have shown up to give you the run down. I'm… not exactly sure why he didn't."

"Eh, it's all right. I think I've got the jist of it," Len said before glancing down to the manual laying open on her lap and thoughtlessly skimming over the words the creased paper held.

"In any case, it would have been nice for him to tell you about the inner workings of the office. I don't come in here much." The man scratched into the gruff on his cheek. "I think I've got my number written down here somewhere. If you ever need me, just give me a call."

"Will do, boss," Len said as she folded the manual and placed it on the computer desktop.

With a nod, the maintenance worker began walking down the hallway before quickly turning back around to peek into the security room. "Oh, and this place is a little weak with power. If you've got too many things running, the whole system shuts down. In the event that happens, just call me up and I'll get it all going again. You sure you're going to be all right by yourself tonight?"

"I'll be fine," Len assured him. "I'll go over the tapes and figure out the rest."

"You seem like a smart girl, I'm sure you'll be just fine." He gave her a kind smile before taking his leave. "I'll lock up behind me; you have a good night, Maggie. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

Len glanced out the security room and listened to the echo of the worker's boots against the dining room floor. A sigh passed out her nose and she turned her sight to the blinking, green-tinted monitors where she watched the man head for the door.

"It's Len," she breathed.

She glanced up to the clock on the wall.

Midnight.

Only six hours to go.

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 _Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!_


	2. The First Night

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The sound of electronic humming and the tick of the plastic clock drove Len into the thralls of boredom. Her fingers twiddled a pencil back and forth as she looked down to the many doodles she had drawn over the back of the training manual. The smell of mildew since dulled, whether it be from her becoming used to the stench or other scents now overpowered her senses. Her fingers tapped against the wood threads of the desk as she skimmed her eyes over the white static of the monitors. It was no wonder the last security guard did not want to come back for another night in this place.

Len groaned and leaned back in the chair.

Her eyes shifted over to the pile of audio tapes sitting next to the answering machine. Without knowing what else to do, and with five hours and thirty minutes left, Len shoved in one of the tapes, hit play, and kicked up her feet on the desk.

"Hello, hello!" the voice on the recording called through the crinkling noise of a poor quality speaker. "Uh… if you're listening to this then you've just been hired as the newest face to represent Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria!"

"Pizzeria?" Len mumbled with a curl of her lip. Her eyes closed and she nestled her head back onto the armchair's headrest. "… that explains some of the smell."

"—and, just… aware…wander at night…"

Len's eyes cracked open to peek at the machine.

"… now, if you have any concern, there are doors—are doors—are doors-doors-zzzzzz…and the power—zzzzz…"

Rocking forward, Len struck the side of the machine with a sharp slap. Her effort to correct the recording did nothing but cause the tape to jam. With pursed lips and a groan, she collapsed in the armchair.

"And… I'm back to square one."

Her head rolled to a side and she looked over the monitors. The cameras were mounted to have a static feed. She saw the same ten rooms, from the same ten angles, on the same tiny, ten screens. On the following nights, she would need to bring something to preoccupy her mind, but for the moment, she stood up from her chair and gave a stretch.

Deciding that she could not spend the next few hours swiveling in an armchair and listening to the dull hum of a computer screen, she picked up a small, plastic flashlight that was sitting on the desktop and stepped out from the security room. At the maintenance worker's leave, he flipped off the house lights, abandoning the rest of the diner to succumb to the thick veils of darkness. Len hesitantly moved forward with the sound of fallen posters, tattered and stained, crunching beneath her feet. It was the only sound she could hear. The air seemed thicker now and she did not know why. Heaviness fell over her, weighing down her shoulders, slowing her steps when she at last entered the main area of the dining room.

The only source of sight she received was from wherever the small beam of light from her flashlight fell. Particles of dust danced and disrupted her view. With a slight move of her wrist, the light shifted over the three animatronics perched above all else on the raised platform of the stage. The light struck their eyes, casting fractured gleams to scatter elsewhere.

Len had seen more than enough horror movies to know that what she now looked at would be perfect for a poster. Five Nights in Hell, the title she considered as she strut through the perfect set. To keep the play of shadows from resurfacing the childhood fears she knew, Len thought over a script for this play. A group of friends, she thought, though cliché as it was, trapped in an amusement park. Abandoned, decrepit, left to rot. There would be a jock, the cocky one, pulling his friends forward and egging their trespassing. Two girls: a slut, cliché, and the typical virgin, cliché. The slut always dies first, Len thought. Horror movie 101, but… maybe in this movie, the friends with morality would be the first to die. Martyrs for the group lost in the labyrinths of roller coaster rides and funhouse mirrors.

With her mind wrapped in the play that kept her fears at bay, Len did not see the edge of the banquet table she now approached. Her hip struck it and a loud and groaning creak of rusted metal snapped her out from her imaginings. Her hands fumbled the flashlight as she also tried to steady the table from collapsing. Her heart thumped into her throat and climbed its way up between her ears. The echo of the creaking metal bounced off the cracking walls and replayed time and time again. Len lifted her gaze, and the flashlight, to peer once more around the room.

Shadows shifted, creeping and slithering away from the beam of light she shed. As the echo continued of creaking metal, Len felt a rush of cold prickle through the air and force her to stand still.

That sound was not from the table.

She turned, her light flickering.

Len shook the flashlight. Batteries rattled.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she hissed at the faltering light.

Her eyes rose again to follow the sound, though faint as it was. One foot, and then the next, she crept forward through the dining hall, listening, straining her thoughts to focus. Part of her tried to distract her from the unknown source of the eerie, metallic sound. Her thoughts pulled her away from the unknown to focus on what she did know. The doors were locked, the maintenance man saw to that. There was only one exit from this place and she did not hear anyone open the door. With how still it was in the interior of the diner, she could probably hear a breath from rooms away, so it was safe to say that she was alone.

Len rolled her lips together and felt the creases of skin she bit off during her wait for the maintenance man to let her into the building.

She continued to the south corner of the dining room.

When Len came to the door of the kitchen, she stopped.

Her head cocked and she leaned her ear close to the door. She heard the creaking, louder now, just beyond the door frame. The door swallowed at her light that gleamed bright on the handle. Len pushed a hand flush to the door and cracked it open to peek into the kitchen. Counters and cabinets threw long, dark shadows across the whole of the kitchen. Before Len could focus on the thick black of the unknown her flashlight could not reach, she caught a glimmer of movement.

The rack of pots and pans above the stretch of counter-tops swung back and forth. Not wanting to enter any further into the veils of shadows, Len stayed at the side of the door. Though her fear prickled the hair on the back of her neck, she heard her reason whisper from her lips.

"Fucking rats."

Without turning her back to the kitchen, Len stepped out from the room and quickly returned to the light of the security room.

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She flipped through the camera feeds just to hear the sound. More than once she caught herself terrified at the darkness outside the doors directly at her sides. She did not know who built the diner, but they did not put much thought into how terrible of a design the security room was. Despite how hard Len tried to distract herself, she felt as though something was standing just past the precipice of light, staring at her.

It felt like waiting in line at the movies and knowing there was someone standing behind you in line, too. It was like the heaviness of a presence, of eyes burrowing into the skin of her cheek, unmoving. With how little power there was left, Len did not want to waste her time anymore by flicking on the light just to put her worries to rest. There was nothing in the diner, she told herself. The door never opened and she never heard footsteps.

She flipped through the camera feeds.

Just then, she heard a sound.

Her finger stopped pressing forward on the keyboard.

Heat flooded her cheeks and ears.

Shifting and searching, Len looked out to the darkness at her right side. It was the metallic sound again, but louder. She had heard the noise before from countless cartoons. A drop of pans and silverware, cue the laugh track. Except, Len did not feel like laughing this time. All that Len felt like doing was sitting still until 6am.

4:23am.

Just a little longer, Len.

"It's the rats," she whispered to herself. "It's… it's just the rats."

Len forced herself to look back at the monitors.

The screens rapidly switched and faded by as she tried to use the static to drown out the noise of whatever it was scrounging in the dark of the kitchen. It worked, for a moment, until she came to the screen of the stage.

Cold with confusion, fear, and hesitation, Len stared at the green-tinted screen and the scatter of static.

Only two characters were on the stage.

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	3. Bumps in the Night

_You ever have those times when you're working on something and you just don't want to stop? Even if you're really, really tired? This story is like that for me. I'm having a lot of fun doing FNAF stuff again. I just love the characters and settings. Hope you enjoy!_

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Len's eyes were fixated on the flickering static of the screen as her heart drummed louder with each passing second of the plastic clock. Like the breakers in the dining room, her thoughts were shut off and she sat hollow and gaping as one of the characters had disappeared—or had it? Was there three on the stage? Could it have fallen from its pose? Rust claimed the rest of the diner, was it possible the same fate fell to one of the haunting messes of wires and smiles? She flipped through the other visual feeds, searching for a matted, fur suit or a jagged, metal skeleton lying prostrate on the grime of the stage.

When she had exhausted the resources found in the security room, there was only one thing left for Len to do. Steeling her resolve, and swallowing a steadying breath, Len took up the flashlight and left the security room through the left hallway. The clanging and banging of pots and pans was faint now, fainter than it had been, and presently, Len would leave it to sort out itself. She was forcing herself to believe it as the infestation of rats inhabiting the filth found in the shadows of the kitchen. Maybe after she had found the missing character… and if her courage permitted… she would investigate the clamor. She was a security guard after all, though she doubted there was much left for her to protect of the decrepit crypt of Freddy Fazbear's diner.

Len stepped out into the dining room and flickered her light at the stage. Standing posed and smiling were the messes of mangled wires and fur of brown and violet. She approached from the side and cast up to the beasts her wary stare and the dying light of her flashlight A rabbit with a black bow-tie, a smile beneath a set of threaded whiskers, bent and twisted. The next character stood foremost on the stage. It was a monstrous thing, much larger than Len first noticed. She recalled so little from the days of Fazbear's prime, but she had seen this character plastered over every newspaper from here to the capital. It was the face of many nightmares for the people of this town. A name that was never whispered at night.

Freddy.

Len hesitated as she noticed the bear's head angled down so its broad smile beamed back against the light of her flashlight. Her feet dragged as she came to a stop beside the stage as she felt captured beneath Freddy's smile.

Wasn't he posed like the rabbit, with his head aimed out to the audience that left so many years ago? She tried to remember what she saw when she first stepped into the diner. Freddy's eyes fractured the gleams of her flashlight, illuminating to a piercing and eerie blue. Len forced her eyes away to the empty space where the third character had stood. She joined the remaining characters on the stage as she investigated the area. A clean space, free of dust, remained where the character once stood. Len's eyes searched the floorboards. Did the maintenance worker come to take away the machine? Didn't he say he wasn't allowed to tamper with them?

" _H-hello?—Hello!_ "

Len seized and spun, pointing her flashlight to the dark hallway leading to the security room.

" _Uh… if you're listening to this then you've just been hired as the newest face to represent Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria_!"

Len's brow knitted and she took measured and slow steps toward the stage stairs while her eyes remained glued to the hallway's dark maw.

" _So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night._ "

A deep breath pushed through Len's nose, taking with it all the warmth from her body, leaving her cold and hollow.

The floorboards creaked.

Len turned, flashlight beaming.

Her eyes lifted, further and further still, as a monster of matted fur with a beaming smile, loomed over her, inches from her, mid-stride.

A scream curdled in her throat and she fell backward off the stage. Her flashlight tumbled across dust and grime and rolled far from her reach. The light faltered before failing, concealing Len in the thick shrouds of darkness. The last sight she saw before succumbing to the blindness of night was the smiling face of Freddy Fazbear.

Clawing and crawling, Len scrambled to her feet with gulping breaths. Her shoulder knocked against one of the tables—or was it a chair—and she grabbed a hold of something firm. She climbed to her feet and sprinted forward. Her sneakers caught on the legs of chairs and she fell again. Knees knocked hard against splitting linoleum, another cry—of pain, of terror—she scrambled. Climbed. Ran.

"… _the only_ real _risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person_."

Len's hands gripped at the wall. Her eyes, wide and gaping, tried to tear through the veils of darkness around her. She heard metal creaking. Pots and pans clanged and cackled. Her hands trembled and felt against the tears in wallpaper and posters as she felt her way forward to the edge of the hall. Her thoughts were racing. Her breath panted.

Halfway down the hall, with the security room door in sight, a sweeping wave of relief filled Len. The moment, however, was fleeting. The sound of a door opening, gradual and creaking, moaned from behind Len. Her pace down the hallway slowed as petrifying fear consumed her senses and brought her to turn.

At the end of the hall, where the dining room fell to the shrouds of night, the sound of footsteps crept. Piercing from the dark, bright and glowing, were a set of magenta eyes. Len fell trapped in their gaze only until a set of rounded teeth appeared in the gleam of the haunting and haunted eyes. Driven by horror, Len ran.

Twisting and rushed, she dove into the cramped security office and slammed her palm against the door mechanism. A hiss of metal and hydraulics caused the heavy metal of the door to fall secure in its frame. Unable to seek comfort, she backed away from the door with her eyes secure on the glass pane separating her from the hallway where the creature lurked. Sweat beaded on her skin, gliding and dripping down past the corners of her lips.

The faint and clacking sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind her.

A sudden realization struck her and her heart leapt into her throat.

Turning, she stared at the open door behind her. Her palm struck the mechanism.

The door dropped.

Her eyes turned to the cameras and searched. There was only one character on the stage. As the static ran wild across the small screen, Len hunched herself over the desk to gaze through the static and noise of the footage. Her nose brushed against the screen and her eyes were wide.

Freddy remained on the stage, staring through the camera.

Staring at her with the same wild smile pulled across his face.

Len let a moan out through her lips and collapsed back on the chair.

Her eyes flickered to the power bar on the side of the screen. The needle teetered in the red. The maximum power had been reached. Len swallowed the lump building in her throat and looked back to the cameras, looked back at the smiling Freddy. Her brow pinched and she looked up to the clock hanging high on the wall.

5:01am.

Her eyes returned to the screen to see a warning flash.

She was exceeding the power limit.

Len was not about to release the locks on the doors, not with whatever it was lurking through the diner. Her hands were frantic and searching as they reached behind the computer and pulled the plug from its outlet. Black overcame the screens and Len collapsed onto the chair. Her arms circled her legs, pulling them tight to her. Her head buried into her knees and she winced her eyes shut, praying that the night would end.

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The break of dawn broke over the tops of the buildings and the light of the streetlights began to fade. The maintenance worker spun the keys on his lanyard as he crossed the parking lot to the front of the diner. He took a sniff of the air and a yawn before getting the door unlocked. Instinctively, he ducked his head to miss the falling banner in the foyer before walking over to the counter that once held a cash register. He placed down the warm mug of his coffee before opening the electrical box and flipping the main breakers.

Nothing happened.

His brow knitted and he flipped it again.

Nothing.

"Musta been a bad night," he mumbled before picking up his coffee and heading through the dining room.

His eyes shifted over to the characters on the stage, perched and posed. He gave a tip of his hat to bid them good morning before making his way down the hallway to the security office. The door was opened and he came to lean on the threshold of the room as he took another sip of his coffee.

Len's arms were sprawled across the desk with a clutter of papers and tapes surrounding her. Her back rose and fell with deep breaths as she was fast asleep. The man chuckled and set down his coffee on the security desk.

"Magdalena," he whispered as he prodded her shoulder. "Shift's over."

Len stirred and groaned. Her eyes winced and lifted to see the crooked smile pulling over the worker's face. The base of her palm lifted and rubbed at her eyes.

"Not used to staying up this late, huh?" he asked before shifting himself to plant his hands on his hips.

"I… I don't remember..." Her hands rubbed furious circles on her face. Suddenly, her hands stopped and lowered. Her lips tapered in a frown and she looked up to the worker. "T-The characters… they were moving…"

"Yep." He nodded. "They tend to do that."

"And… and that's normal?" Len pushed. "How can they… I thought all the power was off. How can they move?"

"They've got built in battery units. During the day, their batteries charge and can hold the charge for the majority of the night. I've tried unplugging them before, but the darn things just plug themselves back in. They get a bit stir crazy, you know. Can't say I blame them."

Len rose from the chair before running a hand through the length of her hair. "And… and they're safe to be around?"

"For the most part," the man said. "They get a little… rambunctious sometimes. I've never seen them at night, though. It's best to keep away from them, just to be safe. If they get close just shut the doors and wait for them to wander elsewhere." He caught sight of Len's worry laden eyes. "You'll be fine. Just four more nights of it. And, like I said, if you ever need me just give me a call. I don't live that far away."

"Thanks… uh..."

"Thomas." The man grinned causing the wrinkles by his eyes to crease. His hand lowered to pick up his coffee before he spoke, "You know, I didn't notice a car outside. Do you have a ride home?"

"I, uh… was supposed to call my friend." Len rubbed at her eyes. "It's all right, I'll just walk."

"No you won't," Thomas said. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride."

"You don't have to do that," she said as her cheeks flushed.

"I know I don't, I'm choosing to."

Thomas led Len to the front of the diner.

"My truck's a little messy, haven't had the proper time getting it cleaned up." Thomas sipped his coffee before turning to look behind him. Len stood in the dining room with her eyes fast to the stage. "You coming?"

Len glanced his way before giving him a nod and following him out into the parking lot. The door closed and became locked once more as the two Fazbear employees left the diner to its darkness.

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The shadows shifted and broke. Light flickered and illuminated the cracked glass of robotic eyes. Metallic joints, rusted by time and disuse, grinded as the shoulders of the monstrous machine rolled. Beside it, the smaller characters came to find the same breath of life. Magenta eyes and crimson eyes shone through the dark.

A crackle and hiss of a voice box rumbled and forced a voice that had not been used since the final night in the previous pizzeria.

"A… girl," Bonnie said with a glance to Chica.

The southern chick lowered her eyes in thought.

"Freddy," Bonnie called.

The bear did not stir.

"She's… just a g-girl," Bonnie struggled.

Freddy's head cocked back. There was a hum in his chest of whirling cogs and the winding of a music box heart. The light of his blue eyes fell.

"I do not care," the bear rumbled lowly.

Bonnie's head bowed.

"… let Foxy have her," Chica said to Bonnie. "I'm sure he'll—"

"No," Freddy snapped, cutting the rest of Chica's words from leaving her speaker.

The bear turned and cast his glowing gaze down on the smallest of his companions before growling,

"This one is mine."

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 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. ... I really need to go to sleep now._


	4. The Second Night

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She sat on the edge of her bed. While one hand gripped into the curve of her knee, the other held up her phone. Her eyes lifted and peered to the contents of her room. Pastel colors reigned in uninterrupted serenity. Len never favored the brash vivacity of rich colors. Compared to the dim and rotten interior of the abandoned pizzeria, her room looked impeccable.

"Emily, I'm telling you," Len said as she rose from her bed to pace back and forth. "They were moving and—and when I used the camera to look at them, they _stared_ back at me."

"Man, Len." Emily heaved a concerned sigh. "That sounds terrifying."

"It was," Len softly agreed before coming to stand still by her windowsill. Her sight reached far from the window pane and out across the silhouette of the buildings surrounding her apartment complex. The sun had already set and wove through the horizon a spectacle of prancing hues of fiery magenta and gold.

"Well, you're not going back, are you?" Emily's voice pressed through the speaker of Len's phone and stabbed at her ear.

"… I don't know," Len answered. Her fingers twiddled the curls of the phone's cord as she thought. "The… the maintenance guy, Thomas, told me that it was normal for them to walk around. And… and there's the doors. They're some kind of super thick steel."

"Yeah, but didn't you say the power there was shitty? What if the power goes out?"

Len bit into the swell of her lower lip. "I really need the money, Emily."

"Then get a normal retail job like the rest of us! I could never spend the night in a place like that, not alone. You're crazy, girl."

"I know," Len mumbled as she reached up to rub at her eyes. "I know I am."

"Hey." Emily shifted the phone and a crackle of static buzzed in Len's ear before she heard her friend's voice more clearly. "You know, I'm not too far from that place and me and Scott are on the fritz again—"

"Again?" Len groaned.

"—yeah, it's like… its own crazy story to tell—but anyway, I don't live too far from that heap of junk you call a job, and I haven't been getting as many hours at work as normal, so if you ever want some company, I'm totally down for spending a night in the haunted hell-pit with you."

"You don't need to do that, Emily," Len politely said, though she felt grateful for the offer.

"It's whatever, girl. Besides, I've heard so many stories about that place; I'd love to get a real look at it myself. I heard they stuff bodies into the suits in the back."

"Jesus Christ, Emily," Len said as she rubbed furiously at her eyes, "did you really need to tell me that?"

"Oh-ho-ho." Emily laughed. "I've heard a lot more than _that_! You know all the stories behind why they had to shut down, don't you?"

"I'd really rather not hear them right now," Len said before she glanced to the clock. "I'm about to head out."

"Decided to go into work, huh? Well, just think about what I said, if you need me. Oh, and Len, don't die."

Len rolled her eyes.

"I'll try my best."

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By the time she reached Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the beautiful, parading colors of the sunset dissipated into the thick mire of dark, cobalt skies speckled with the breaths of silver stars. With the moonlight's falling grace, Len was able to make out the faded letters of the Fazbear sign. She took a deep, bracing breath of the summer air and crossed the parking lot. Thomas had given her an extra key for the padlock holding shut the door. When you're inside, he told her, just lock the door behind you. With the door opened, Len entered into the foyer to see the shroud of darkness staining the dining room. Thomas said he would leave the houselights on until she had gotten there... but they were off. The bag Len carried with her, filled with extra batteries and odds and ends, lowered to the floor as she walked over to the fuse box and opened the metal flap.

From the pocket of the jacket she wore, Len pulled out a tiny—but powerful—flashlight. Her thumb flicked over the button and illuminated the breakers and the tags taped next to them. Each room had a different switch. Thomas had told her not to flip them all on or the fuses would blow and she'd have to spend the night in complete darkness. Her fingers pinched at the worn, dark switch of the security room and she gave it a flip.

With a nod of satisfaction, Len turned to grab her bag.

Just as her fingers reached down to the canvas strap, she heard the twinkling of a melody whispering through the shadows. Len hesitated as she leaned over before tossing up her eyes. She had heard that sound before in the depths of her nightmares. The musical march of a music box called to her. With her bag in hand, Len did not waste another moment. Her steps hastened and her grip tightened on the metal of her pocket flashlight. Though she heard shifting through the shades and the creaking of metal and floorboards, Len did not dare look back. She continued down the hallway with the sound of the music box echoing its chime behind her. When Len reached the door of the security room, she came to a sudden and frightened stop.

The door was lowered.

Her eyes were wide in confusion, and the beginnings of horror, as she peeked into the faint light of the room to find it as empty as it had been when she left it. Her fingers touched the cold metal of the door and she glimpsed past the glass pane to see the door on the opposite side was still open.

"Fuck me," Len breathed in anguish.

She drew back from the door, her eyes remaining to stare on it as though her will alone could unleash it from its lock. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths to steady the rising alarm icing over the confines of her heart. There was no other place to go at the end of the hallway and with heaviness slowing her steps, Len turned to head for the other side of the hall. Her feet froze in place and her eyes stared as from down the hallway approached a monstrous silhouette. Each step it took trembled the dust from the walls to fall in streams. Glowing orbs floated and flickered above the wide grin of the shadowed figure as it stalked forward.

Len backed away at its approach until her back was flush against the wall. Her breathing quickened and the beam of her flashlight quivered as her hands she could not still. A glimmer of silver caught her eye and she snapped her eyes down to the grate of a ventilation shaft. Len dove to the ground and dug her nails against the grate. Shaking and panicked, she fumbled with the grate as the heavy pounding of the approaching monster grew louder.

With a cry of force, the stripped screws broke from the wall's plaster and the grate was free. Quick and crawling, Len forced her body into the cobwebs of the cramped vent. Her shoulders pinched against the walls tight to her body and with a swift hand she placed the flashlight between her teeth, giving her brief glimpses of swaying light. Onward she shimmied down the shaft as from behind she heard the rumbling of a low laugh. She felt bugs crawling against her cheeks and through the lengths of her hair, but Len did not stop moving forward.

At last, she came to the grate of another room. With luck on her side, the grate was already falling from its screws and Len was able to carefully, and quietly, remove it. Her thoughts ran over the layout of the rooms and as her fingernails dug into the creases of black and white tile on the floor, Len realized she was in the kitchen. Just before she freed herself from the shaft, she heard the clanking of pots.

She froze.

Her thumb flicked over the light and her eyes fell blind to the darkness.

Silence.

Her breath, labored and choppy, was held in her throat as she listened.

Footsteps crept across the tiles.

Len rolled her lips together to brace herself. Her eyes shut tight.

The kitchen door creaked open and then swung shut.

Len opened her eyes.

She hesitated a moment more, making certain that she was truly alone. Crawling forward on her hands and knees, Len kept her side to the counter-tops. With a flick on and off on her flashlight, she shed light into the kitchen just to see the layout before allowing the shadows to reign once again. She dared not keep the flashlight on. She did not know if the characters needed light in order to see or if they were accustomed to lurking through the dark.

A sigh left Len's lips as she came to the door and rose to a crouch.

She could not stay the entire night in the kitchen with the hopes that Thomas showed up to save her. Len could not deny that she was afraid. She did not like the dark and she liked even less what hid in it, but she needed this money.

Len needed to finish the week.

A breath filled her and puffed her chest before she opened the door and sprinted out into the dining room. The beam of her flashlight tore through the darkness and she did not stop. She cut past the first hallway. She did not know where the characters were and she did not want to find out. Unfortunately, that did not stop Len from finding at least one of them. As she came to the furthest hallway, she stopped to see the rabbit walking down the hall. A gasp caught in Len's throat. Her thoughts ran rampant. Without a moment to lose, Len drew back the satin of a red curtain and dove behind the cover of its length. Her thumb flicked off the flashlight and she waited.

The rabbit would return to the main stage, just like the other character had done the previous night. She just needed to be quiet. She needed to be quiet and still and patient.

Len closed her eyes.

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Soft against her cheek, she felt the kiss of a cold, curved metal hook.

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Len's eyes gaped in the shadows.

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A dart of motion, a billow of ruby red curtains, brought Len to sprint from behind the curtains with the rising maniacal laughter of a hooked character trailing after her. Its feet were quick, much faster than hers. Gulping breaths, arms pumping, Len ran.

The crimson eyes of the rabbit stared at her, but Len did not stop. Ducking and twisting, she slid against the wall and evaded the reaching paws of the animatronic before continuing her sprint. She heard the clash of metal and the ear-splitting shriek of the hooked character. Again, the sound of feet rushing down the hall sounded from behind her. It was gaining on her.

Len dove into the office. She fell against the chair and scrambled to jump back to her feet. Her hand struck the mechanism just as she saw the glow of a golden eye.

A spit of sparks illuminated the hallway at the scrapping of a metal hook against the metal door. There was an angry shriek as the character struck against the door. At the booming sound, Len fell back into the chair. Her eyes flickered over to the monitors where she saw the hooked character fight against the locked door. When it had rather exhausted itself or grown bored, it retreated into the darkness.

Heaving and dumbfounded at her luck, Len released the tension pinching at her shoulders and allowed her arms to slump at the sides of her chair.

Her eyes lifted to the clock.

2:28am.

Len lifted a hand to rub at her eyes.

"Night two," she mumbled. "Let's see what you got."

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	5. Unexpected Guest

_Thanks for checking out my story! I've been having a lot of fun with this. Hope you enjoy!_

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Lights. Cameras. Doors.

Rinse and repeat.

Len's eyes flickered over the different screens; her fingers were quick as they toggled back and forth between the cameras on the stage, the hallways, and Pirate Cove. The avian character kept to the kitchen and the path of the bathrooms. The rabbit character, the one she evaded on her path to the security room, stalked back and forth on the left hall. It stopped by her door momentarily before retreating and continuing its jagged and faltering ramble. Even the fox from Pirate Cove would creep from the curtains at times. It was a smart machine, smarter than the others, even. Len was not sure, but she believed it knew where the cameras were and, because of it, was able to escape the camera's line of sight. The only time she was able to see it was when it made a mad sprint down the left hall for her door.

The characters were restless in their own wanderings. While some were more docile, others showed more hostility. Once their patterns were realized, Len found little trouble in conducting her work. There was only one abnormality to her system.

She changed the screen to the camera on the stage.

Standing in the center of the stage was Freddy. Always smiling.

Len's eyes narrowed.

Freddy was unpredictable. Freddy did not follow a pattern or a rehearsed shamble through a certain area of the diner; he went where he pleased, though, for the majority of the night, he remained center stage, smiling through the camera.

Smiling at her.

Len leaned back in the computer chair.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked to the flickering, tinted image of the iconic bear.

From the depths of her bag, the one she had to snatch from the hallway where she left it, Len pulled out an energy drink. With a painted, coral nail, she pried open the tab. A hiss and fizzle spat from the can before she took a deep drink. She could not fall asleep tonight. Though her eyes grew hooded and heavy and her body ached, Len had to stay awake.

Her gaze broke from the green static of the monitor only for a moment to look at the clock.

5:16am.

Len pushed air out through her nose.

So long as the characters kept to routine, and she kept a stock of energy drinks, this week would roll by and she would be quite a bit richer.

The metallic rim of the can rose to Len's lips and just as she was about to take another sip, she saw a glare of light play over one of the camera feeds. The can lingered on the round of Len's mouth before she quickly set down her drink and switched cameras. A crackle played over the speaker. Her fingers reached forward at a knob on the keyboard. She gave it a twist.

"Mad Lena! I've come to keep you company!" sang Emily as she spun with billowing skirts.

"Fucking shit," Len spat out her drink.

"Where you hiding, Len?" Emily called from the dining room. Len saw that in her grasp she held a large, boxed flashlight.

Len scrambled in the office, tossing papers aside as she searched for the flashlight she had once sat on the desk. On taking it up, her eyes hesitated on the screen of Pirate Cove. The curtains drew back and a single, golden eye peeked from the darkness.

"Oh, fuck," Len sprinted from the room, hissing and cursing as she ran, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Len?" She heard Emily call. "You're here, aren't you?"

With a mad dash into the dining room, Len stopped for nothing, not the questions she head Emily ask her at her approach or the multiple set of eyes peeking through the darkness at her.

"Jesus, Len," Emily gasped, "You nearly scared me half to—"

"We gotta go, now." Len snatched Emily's hand and pulled her toward the hallway. "Now, now, now!"

"Damn, Len, what's gotten into…"

A scrape of metal against the wall behind them.

A shriek.

A single, golden eye.

"Oh, shit." Len gaped into the darkness behind them before picking up their pace.

"What the fuck is _that_?!" Emily gasped.

"Move!"

The girls sprinted forward. The glimpses of light from their flashlights flickered back and forth as they ran. Sweat beaded on their skin. Their breaths panted. When they at last came to the security room, Len rushed Emily in before leaping after her. Her hand struck the door mechanism and watched as it dropped. With careful steps, she backed away from the metal of the door. She caught a flash of movement beyond the thick, glass pane before hearing pounding and scraping from the opposite side of the door. When the creature, aggravated and forfeiting, returned to its place in Pirate Cove, Len turned to look at the beaming Emily.

"That… was amazing."

"What?" Len's brow shot up. "Are you insane? How'd you even get in here?"

"The front door was unlocked," Emily shrugged her shoulders before plopping down into the security room chair where she swiveled back and forth.

Len lifted her hands to rub at her eyes. She could not believe she forgot to lock the front door. Without a second to waste, she hunched over the desk and flickered through the camera feeds. Even with Emily's sudden, and unexpected, presence, Len could not slack from her work. The last thing she needed was to have another close scrape with one of the machines she was entrusted to watch.

"I was thinking about the story of the backroom," she heard Emily say. "Do you think we could have a look?"

" _Now_?" Len asked with a glance back at her friend.

"Well, not right _now_. Maybe after your shift is over."

Len's head bowed and for a moment she took her eyes away from the computer screen in thought. This job—these characters—claimed six hours of her night. Every second after those six hours were hers and she did not want to waste any of them by staying in this place. Emily would be persistent, Len knew that, but she herself would be adamant.

"Just a peek," Emily begged. "In and out, I promise."

A sigh left Len's lips.

"Just a peek," she agreed.

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Just before six, Len received a call from Thomas telling her that he would be running a little late. You don't have to wait, he had told her, just lock up behind yourself. With the scatter of morning light creeping through the boarded windows, Len felt relief, and with Emily at her side, she did not feel so alone.

Emily kept her thoughts far from Fazbear's Pizzeria with her current drama with her now ex-boyfriend, Scott. Even with Emily's constant chatter and exaggerated expressions, when the two girls crossed before the stage toward the backroom, Len's eyes lingered on the characters on the stage. They stood posed and still. Their eyes pointed up and out to the empty dining room. If Len had not been here the last two nights she would have mistaken these machines for any other animatronic from any other family restaurant.

But she knew what they were at night. When night came and life left the pizzeria, Len saw them for what they were.

They were monsters.

"Len," Emily called.

From her worries, Len lifted, just as her eyes had to see Emily standing in the threshold of the backroom. With careful steps, she approached her friend's side. Emily held the box light she had brought into the pizzeria and only with its spread of light were they able to see the empty suits and scattered exoskeletons of dismantled animatronics. The clutter of these objects was not what captivated Len and Emily, but the wall plastered with newspaper clippings.

"What are these?" Emily asked while Len approached the wall.

 _'Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, Grand Opening!_ '

Len's eyes shifted across the aged article's picture of a man, woman, and child. Behind them, on a decorated stage, stood a single, smiling character.

' _Tragedy Strikes Local Town – Four children, Missing_ '

Four pictures, four smiling faces. Two little boys, two little girls.

' _Investigation of Abduction Continues – Local Pizzeria Under Suspicion_ '

"It's the story of the pizzeria," Emily said as she approached Len's side. "Five children went missing. The police never found them."

' _Attack at Local Pizzeria – Owner's Daughter, age 6, Becomes 5_ _th_ _Missing Child_ '

The same picture of the man, woman, and child decorated the article. The little girl's smile beamed out through the photograph. A moment of happiness became tainted by the thick, dark letters of an article of horror.

The rest of the articles pinned to the wall by rusty, crooked nails were nearly illegible due to time and wear. These were newspaper clippings of a second pizzeria with more characters opening, rising to fame, and eventually finding the same tragic ending as their predecessor with an attack on a security guard leading to its closing. What sort of ending would these characters find with the next set of owners in the next Fazbear establishment?

"Len, look at this one."

Her eyes shifted over to the last of the newspaper clippings. These were newer, less crinkled and worn.

' _Suspect Wanted in Investigation of Missing Children_ '

There was a mug shot of a man, but his face was unrecognizable as black slashes of ink crossed out his eyes. The paper clipping was stained and dark, whether it was water or…

"Blood," Emily breathed.

Len's fingers lifted to the paper and traced over the thick strokes of ink.

"I… I don't like this, Len," Emily said in a stutter as she began to back away toward the door. "We should leave."

Feeling the same unease fall over her, Len agreed, and turned to face Emily. Suddenly, the strings of her horror drew taut and her eyes gaped at the monstrous being looming behind Emily.

"Len?" Emily called.

It was the last thing she said, and the last thing Len heard, before two large, skeletal paws seized Emily and dragged her from the room. The flashlight clattered and fell to the ground, drawing shrouds of darkness to fall over the backroom. All that Len saw through the darkness were two glowing, blue eyes drawing nearer and, beneath it, the wide smile of Freddy Fazbear.

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 _Thanks for reading! :D_


	6. Freddy's Vow

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The three characters, the rabbit, the fox, the avian, were predictable and tame. They behaved like machines. Two were sluggish while one was quick, but Len knew how to handle them. No matter what circumstance she was put under, she could figure out how to conduct her work and keep the machines at bay. Because that was what they were—machines.

But Freddy was not like them.

As Len stood near the back wall of the backroom with the looming monster of servos and circuits making its approach, she stood petrified beneath the piercing gaze of luminescent, blue eyes. Cogs whirled and metal creaked as with each step Freddy took forward, Len could hear the chime of a music box awakening with the breath of a haunting melody. The warmth left her in a cold sweat and she felt weightless and empty. Her eyes flickered across the extent of the backroom, searching for an escape, searching for a weapon to wield.

Freddy saw her frantic eyes.

As if he knew, as if this machine anticipated a fight, he darted forward.

The ground quaked and air hissed from the pumps in the machine's legs as it leapt to life and rushed Len. A scream curdled in her throat, rising, but stolen quick as charred, skeletal hands pierced into the flesh of her arms and rammed her against the wall. The rusty nails, once imbedded in the wall, fell from the force and clinked against the grime and slime of the concrete floor. Pain swallowed at Len's arms, ensnaring and staining her until she thought of nothing less than the fear and torment overwhelming her.

Freddy's fingers gripped, twisted, just as his smile had, forcing a trembling cry to shatter through Len's lips.

Her pain fueled him, filled him with euphoric bliss. A deep, empty cackle rumbled from the rust of his voice box and shook the foundation of her terror.

Len flailed and fought against Freddy's compressing grip. Her breath panted and she wept as the metallic needles of his fingers punctured skin and drew the warmth of blood to stream down like tears on her sweat-ridden arms. In the darkness, Len could see nothing but the eyes above her, gleaming with lunacy, but she did feel the cool of metal slip against her neck. Effortlessly, Freddy tightened his grip about her neck. The eyes dancing before her flickered and faded. Her head pounded. Her hands reached and pushed ever so weakly against the machine pinning her to the wall. She was nothing to the machine. Her strength waned while Freddy's remained at a constant.

A flash of blinding light struck against Len's eyes. A beam of a box flashlight.

"Magdalena!" Emily's voice echoed so far from Len's thoughts. Through the veils of life and death, she seemed so far away.

"Hold on, Maggie!" another voice. Male.

The grip at her neck lessened, air rushed through Len's lips as she gulped and resurfaced to face the illuminated horror before her. The crazed smile that Freddy once held was failing. The electronic and glowing light of his eyes flickered beside her, returned, flickered. Len lifted her hands and gripped against the skeletal paw as she tried to keep the metallic noose from suffocating her.

Suddenly, the machine's hand withdrew and Len's weight fell hard and swift to the concrete below. Her knees struck and inflamed with pain that reverberated through all her bones. Her trembling fingers rose to the creases and burns in her neck, just as her eyes had to see an emotion blurring the machine's eyes and creasing the corners of its lips to fall in a frown.

"Maggie?"

Freddy seized and slumped as the light from his eyes faded.

Emily rushed forward and knelt beside Len. Her hands were frantic and quivering as they brushed at the blood on Len's arms.

"Magdalena… oh my God."

From behind Freddy, Thomas appeared. "I think I've got some medical supplies in my truck. Just wait here."

"Wait here?" Emily echoed with anger contorting her face. "She needs to get to a hospital!"

"Emily," Len called, her voice frail.

"—no, Len, you need to see a doctor. Where's the fucking phone? I'm calling the police."

Just as Emily made the attempt to stand, Len caught her hand and gripped.

"I'm… okay."

"Len," Emily begged as tears began filling her eyes.

A breath filled Len's chest and she turned her eyes away. At her stubbornness, Emily sat back down and seethed in silence.

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Thomas returned with the medical kit and, with Emily's help to relocate Len to the dining room, set to the work of binding the tears of flesh on Len's arms. As he round a ball of tape around the gauze held on the last wound, a weak smile broke on his face. "It's not too bad, just a lot of blood. I don't imagine you'll need stitches."

Emily scoffed and turned away.

"You… really shouldn't have gone back there," Thomas said as he finished.

"We're sorry," Len mumbled with heat filling her face.

"Sorry?" Emily echoed. " _Sorry_? Are you fucking kidding me? Those things almost killed us! And you're sorry?"

"I knew they were dangerous," Len said. "We should have left when my shift was over."

"They aren't always like this," Thomas fell defensive. "It's just… their hard drives are pretty buggy. I've tried contacting the company to let me repair them, but with the tampering done on the old animatronics at the previous establishment, no one is allowed to even touch them. Me shutting off old Freddy back there, if the company finds out about that, I'll lose my job."

"And that's a bad thing?" Emily asked the man twice her age with a growing sneer. "You two realize you're basically working in an asylum without doors, right? These _things_ are trying to _murder_ you!"

"A job's a job," Thomas said with a weak smile.

"No, it's fucking not," fought Emily. "If the police knew what happened in this place, this whole place would be burnt to the ground. Good fucking riddance."

"You apparently don't know who owns the Fazbear name now," Thomas said. "There's a few million dollars posed right there on the stage, wasting away. The company's bought out the police. No one's shutting this place down."

Len inspected the bandages on her arm before standing up. "This place follows routine, Emily. So long as you keep to the script, what just happened—that would never happen."

"But, that doesn't—"

"We made a mistake," Len continued. "You shouldn't have come here and I shouldn't have let you stay."

Emily's shoulders slumped. Len knew the fight with her was far from over, but for the moment, she was exhausted and in pain and ready to be home.

"I can give you girls a ride if you need it," Thomas offered.

"No, I… I brought my car. I'll give Len a ride home." Emily said as she headed for the door, trapped in her own thoughts.

Len sighed and lightly touched at the bandages on her arm. She made her way after Emily, but came short at the door and turned. "Thanks, Thomas… if you hadn't shown up…"

Thomas raised a hand and waved off her gratitude. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad I got here when I did. Knew I shouldn't have hit the snooze button this morning." He smiled, though it was weak. "Get some rest, Len. Will… will you be coming in tonight?"

Len's lips parted, but the words lingered on her tongue. Her mouth sealed in a line and she shrugged her sore shoulders. "I… I'm not sure."

"Well, if you do decide to come in, I'll make sure you get in and out okay. And, if you ever need anything, please, don't hesitate to call."

Len gave a nod, and with that, she left the pizzeria and entered the heat and safety of daylight.

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Emily was quiet on their drive to Len's apartment. She did not say goodbye or even look at Len when she got out of the car. She would need time to steam off, Len knew that. With heavy feet, Len scaled the staircase and came to the familiarity and warmth of her apartment. Her hands were gentle as they removed the tape around her arms and her fingers delicate as they plucked off the wrap of gauze. Her skin was blotched red and purple, but Thomas was right, her wounds were not nearly as bad as she thought they might be. As Len inspected them in her bathroom mirror, she could not keep her thoughts from creeping back toward the darkness of the backroom where a grinning machine found sentience in the pleasure of pain.

Len carefully shed the weight of her clothes from her body until she stood nude. Her eyes shifted across the curves and dips of her skin. Her arms slowly crossed and her fingers brushed against the puncture wounds made by metallic fingers.

" _Maggie?_ "

Freddy spoke her name. She did not know the machines could speak things they did not know, but that was not what bothered her. It was the confusion laced on the back of his electronic voice that unnerved her. He spoke knowingly, as though her name surprised him.

Len stepped into her shower and spun the dials. Steam rose from the hissing water that enveloped her in its warmth. Her eyes closed and she relished the heat and comfort of her home.

For a time, she stood here, even when the water began to cool.

" _Will… will you be coming in tonight_?"

She shouldn't. Emily was right. That place should be shutdown and the machines should be dismantled. Those creatures lurking in the shrouds of abandoned ruins were nothing of this world and yet, that made Len want to stay. Part of her wanted nothing more than to receive that paycheck at the end of the week and walk away, never looking back, but the other part of her wanted to know more about the machines. What were they? If they were able to talk, could they know what happened all those years ago?

Len slumped her shoulders and stepped out from the shower.

She never could suppress her curiosity. She was afraid, it was foolish not to be, and Len knew how stupid it was for her to return for another night, but if she didn't, she'd have no job and no money. Len needed to pay rent and her fridge was beginning to look quite pitiful.

With the length of her nightgown on, Len collapsed on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

She wished she had someone to talk to. Someone who knew what it was like to feel… empty. Len never knew her parents, never had the comfort of a foster home. She doubted the caretaker of the orphanage would be able to sympathize with her kamikaze career choice. Len turned and placed her cheek on the pillow. Everything Len had, everything she owned, was bought with her own money. The only friend she had was Emily and she knew better than to talk to her about the pizzeria, especially after what they just went through.

Len just did not understand why she felt so compelled to take the job at Fazbear's pizzeria. Why did she keep going back? What was she looking for?

Her eyes closed and she released a deep breath.

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Tiles creaked beneath the weight of the machine's feet. It shambled forward alone through the darkness of the hallway. The machines retired to their charging ports, but not him. His wires were buzzing and strung. Emotions, too complex and foreign, drove him insane. It had been so long since he felt this way. It had been too long since he felt anything other than homicidal fury.

He slowed and stopped outside the empty security room.

How long would it take for the owners to realize their day guard was not coming back? How much longer would it take them to look for his body?

Thoughts stilled and fell silent as he caught sight of a burlap bag sitting beside the desk. His hand reached down and with needle-like fingers, he opened the flap and sorted through the bag's contents. Half-charged batteries and a cocktail of different drinks littered the bottom of the bag. Such things were of no interest to him, but that did not stop him.

It was when he drew up a wallet, leather and worn, that he stood.

He opened it, searched through the cards. Numbers, pictures, dates—he did not care about these. It was the picture slid beneath the folds of plastic that concerned him. He removed it from the hold of the wallet and tossed the rest back into the security room.

He had what he needed, what he searched for.

His skeletal, charred fingers ran across the small portrait of Len's face, a face that captivated him, intoxicated him.

If she returned tonight, he would never let her leave.

Freddy promised himself that.

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 _Hope you enjoyed! I love writing Freddy's parts. He's by far my favorite. My insane, little murder-bear. There might be like two or three chapters after this. I haven't decided yet. Thanks for reading! :D_


	7. The Final Hour

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That night Len returned.

True to his word, Thomas waited for her at the front of the pizzeria. He sat outside, puffing away at the end of a crooked cigarette. The smoke billowed from his nose, lifting and drifting through the incoming wind current of the approaching storm. At the sight of her, he took a final drag before flicking the remains into the parking lot.

"I was half afraid you wouldn't show," he called to her as she crossed the faded, yellow lines of the lot.

Her shoulders pinched and a hand rose to stay the wind from twisting the ends of her long, tawny hair. "So was I," she answered with a failing smile.

Thomas turned and unlocked the front door before leading her inside. As he made his way to the side of the breaker box, Len hesitantly approached the side of the stage. Curiosity brought her forward to stare at the machines that plagued her every thought while caution hesitated her from going any further. After the end of the previous night, all she could think of was the tragic story laced through the history of the Fazbear name like the stitches of a seam. She thought of the children and their smiling faces and wondered what became of them. Were they alive? Were any of them found?

"It's been a quiet day," Thomas told her as he powered on the security room. His hand rose and shifted the cap on his head. "I think the poor things tuckered themselves out."

Len's gaze lingered on Freddy.

She felt the bruises on her neck burn as though the phantom grip of metallic bones tightened now against her skin. Her eyes flickered away with unease.

Thomas approached her side. "Want me to take you back to the office?"

"No, I think I'll be all right." She turned to him and politely smiled. "Thank you… for all your help."

"Don't mention it," he replied with a shrug. "It's the least I can do after convincing you to take this job. I… didn't think things would turn out this way. I'm sure if you knew then what you knew now, you'd have thrown me straight out of the unemployment office."

Len breathed a laugh. "I may have had a few choice words to say, but I'd probably still have taken the position. I'm lucky you came along when you did."

"I'm the lucky one," Thomas said. "Do you have any idea how long I searched for someone like you? All you have to do is mention the pizzeria around these parts and people turn tail and run. You're different though. I knew it the day I saw you. You've got bravery in you—and equal parts insanity, no doubt. I can tell you know what you're doing with these animatronics. They may be… a little crazy, but we're all just part of the same little, weird family. I hope one day they get the repairs they need. Children loved coming to this pizzeria."

Len scoffed and looked back to the stage where the characters stood posed. "I… can't imagine that."

"Really?" Thomas's brow shot up and his lips pursed. "You remember them when you were a kid, don't you? They broke a lot of headlines, made the national news. There was talk at one point of capitalizing on the fame of the Fazbear name and mass producing the animatronics. A 'Freddy Fazbear's' on every corner across the country."

"That was before the disappearances, wasn't it?" Len asked. "I can't imagine many kids coming here after their parents found out about the missing children."

"And they didn't," Thomas told her with a nod. "You know, the Fazbear band has lasted for many years. When I look at them, I wonder if they know why the children don't come here anymore. I almost want to apologize for them being… discarded. It's sad, when you think about it."

"Well, it's not like they feel anything," Len said with a tapering frown. "They're just machines."

"Maybe." Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "I know when you look at them you see monsters. They've forgotten who they were, what they were meant for. Maybe I'm just biased toward them since I've known them for so long, but the characters were built to entertain children, to protect them. That mortality was built into their mainframes. People… they aren't built like these machines. You can trust the machines to follow their programming, but people… they're the ones you have to worry about."

Len thought back to the backroom wall littered with newspaper clippings. She thought of the unease that came over Emily when she first told her where she would now be working. The nightmares that doused this place those many years ago still lingered. Thomas's words of kindness to these metallic monsters could not displace the steady fear trembling on Len's nerves, but she began to see the animatronics in a second light. If they could be repaired— if the machines could be tamed—could the idea of the Fazbear company spreading countrywide be a possibility? She thought of being a mother, many years from now, would she let her child come here? Would she even be able to come here herself or would seeing Freddy's smile again, hearing his voice, return her to the state of terror she discovered beneath the fallen banners and streamers of the decaying pizzeria she now stood in?

Knowing what the characters were capable of—knowing what it felt like to be a victim of their brutality—Len did not know if she ever wanted to see these monsters allowed near children again.

With thoughts of both sympathy and contempt for these machines confusing her thoughts, Len bid farewell to the maintenance worker and started her trek down the long and desolate hall toward the security office.

Night three had begun and already Len could not wait for it to be over.

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Another energy drink fizzed as she popped its tab. One hand held at the can as the other flipped through the camera feeds. The characters were more active tonight, but despite their curious wanderings keeping her rather busy, Len felt her eyes falling heavy. These last few nights she had gotten little sleep as she sat cowering on the edge of her bed at what may lurk in the shadows. It was foolish to let her work consume her, but she could not stop the veil of paranoia from following her no matter where she went. After the third time she had to close both doors to deter Bonnie and Chica from joining her in the security office, Len realized an unsettling thought.

Her back straightened as she stared down on the screen of the stage.

Freddy was gone.

Her eyes searched the screen, flickering back and forth as if he hid from her in plain sight. Of the nights she had been here, Freddy never left his spot atop the stage in the dining room. At his disappearance, Len felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Her fingers clicked furiously away at the keyboard as she shifted through the camera feeds in search for her smiling, blue-eyed nightmare. It was then she made another discovery that worsened the state of wariness befalling her.

The camera in the backroom was unresponsive.

Sweeping cold breathed down Len's arms bringing her hair to stand on end. The camera was working just fine last night. What happened? Her thoughts turned back to the previous night when the most hostile of the characters wrapped its hands around her throat. As it brought her to shed tears of unfathomed horror, it only smiled.

Her lips pinched together as she stared at the error screen of the backroom camera. Before she could waste any time, Len flipped through the other camera feeds. Her eyes searched for the satin brim of a top hat and the charred metal of skeletal paws. No matter where she looked, Len was unable to find Freddy. A breath filled her chest, released slowly.

He was in the backroom.

He broke the camera so she could not see him.

It was unlike Len to leap chasms to draw conclusions, but when it came to Freddy, Len did not know what to expect. He was more than a machine, she was certain of it. Despite the circuits and wires and beams, there was something that made him different. Something that made him wicked. The thought of Freddy purposely sabotaging the equipment in an attempt to entice Len's curiosity and lure her out from the safety of the office brought the needles of dread to prick at her skin. Her eyes lingered on the screen while a hand hovered over the handle of the red telephone. Should she call Thomas? Would it be safe for him to come in during the middle of the night?

Len withdrew her hand.

She had to do this alone. She could not call for help every night, she could do this. She had to.

To disrupt the maddening sound of the humming computer monitor, Len forced in a random audio tape into the player and pressed play. It would be comforting to hear a voice, no matter who it belonged to.

" _Hello, hello? Hey, you're doing great! Most people don't last this long. I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I'm not implying that they died. Th-th-that's not what I meant. Uh, anyway I better not take up too much of your time. Things start getting real tonight._ "

The more she heard the man on the recording talk, the less Len believed hearing another voice helped her. She saw a flash of red across the monitors and spun in her chair to close the left door. Her eyes did not lift to look through the pane as the flash of a single, gold eye and hook drew closer. The door rattled at the force of the animated character. Relinquishing its assault, it retreated. Routine.

Len popped out the audio tape and shoved in a new one.

The audio crackled from the speaker as a breath rustled out from the recording.

" _Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow._ "

On the other end of the recording, Len could hear the familiar banging of the metal door. To hear it happening to someone else unnerved her.

" _Uh, hey, do me a favor. Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room? I'm gonna to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad._ "

Len's eyes drifted from the monitor to stare at the crackling speakers. Her face began to pale.

" _Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there._ "

Just then, between the sounds of banging fists on the metal door and the audible sound of fear trembling the man's voice, there played the soft chime of a music box. Len felt open, empty, haunted and terrified. She imagined the man sitting where she now sat, speaking through the recorder on the machine she now listened to, and hearing the chime of a music box that Len feared more than the darkness beyond the security doors.

" _Oh… oh, no._ " The recording sputtered, the man's breathing became heavier.

Suddenly, a scream.

A scream that rattled the speakers and brought Len to propel herself forward to rip the cord to the machine out from the wall. Her heart raced. Even as she sat listening to the quiet hum of the monitor, that mechanical scream ricocheted through her thoughts, lashing the walls of her mind over and over. A flicker of movement caught her eye on the monitor. She turned.

The camera feed of the dining room failed. Error screen.

Len's eyes shifted across the monitor.

The camera feed of the stage failed. Error screen.

What was happening? Len flickered through the remaining footage.

Pirate Cove, failed.

Storage Closet, failed.

West Hallway, failed.

One by one, each of the feeds went down. Error screens consumed the space of the monitor, flashing black and green. Len sat stricken in fear, in confusion.

Her eyes turned out to the hallway on her left where she no longer had access to the cameras. She rose from her chair and peered out into the darkness beyond the pane of the closed door. She saw nothingness, heard only silence.

The camera feeds leading to the East hallway began to fail and Len returned to her seat. She watched as the crawling blackout consumed the rest of her cameras until only one was left.

Camera 4B, the one mounted outside her door.

Len's breaths rushed out through the opened part of her mouth. Her resources were gone. The only things that kept the machines at bay, that kept her safe, were gone. Her thoughts unraveled as she saw the meter of the power gauge begin to rise. Len's eyes flickered to the last remaining camera feed.

From the shrouds of darkness lingering down the hall, Freddy approached.

A cold chill coursed up Len's spine until it reached her lips where she drew in a sharp breath.

Bounding to life, she flung at the door mechanism and slammed her palm down against the glowing button. The door dropped, resounding through the silence.

Len backed away from the door as she caught the sight of eyes glowing through the darkness, but that was all she saw. Terrified of the unknown lingering in the shadows, Len shifted her eyes to the monitor where the last camera feed played.

Against the night mode filter, Freddy's eyes appeared as gaping pits of darkness with a single light escaping its center. That light, burning bright in the pocket of black, fixated on the camera, staring through, staring at _her_. All Len could do now was stare back and wait. She would wait for the night to be over or for the power to fail so the monster waiting just beyond her door could finish what it started.

It was then that a smile broke across Freddy's face as he stared into the camera. The delicate move of needle-like fingers appeared over the feed as his hands rose to grip at the camera and steady its stream.

A voice crackled over the audio feed as a smile broadened across the suit of the machine.

" _It's… me._ "

In a flicker, the camera was torn from the wall and the screen went dark.

Len turned her eyes forward as the sound of footsteps quaked the tile beneath her. The sound rose, deafened, before the door shuddered and bent beneath the force of Freddy Fazbear. A cry of terror split Len's lips as the door she worshiped as the shield between her and the machines failed. Scrambling, Len seized the phone atop the desk and cradled it in one arm. The light hanging overhead began to flicker. The power was failing. Her hand reached down and clawed through papers. Her eyes shifted across scattered papers as she searched for Thomas' phone number.

A second barrage collided with the door. Metal shrieked and sparks spat through the darkness.

Len's heart leapt into her throat as she found a scrap of paper with a number hastily jotted down in blue ink. Her fingers trembled as they frantically spun the dial.

Another collision, the door began to cave.

Len gulped her breaths and listened to the dial tone. Sweat beaded across her skin, building and dripping like the tears that clung at her eyelashes.

The ringing came to an immediate stop as the call was answered.

"—Thomas, Freddy is breaking down the security door," Len cried out as she gripped her nails into the phone. "I don't know what to do—please, I need help—Thomas, please, I can't fucking do this—I can't—"

Black swallowed Len's vision.

The constant sound of the humming monitor sighed into silence and the doors on either side of the office rose.

The power was gone.

The words that burned on the tip of Len's tongue fell silent and her eyes rose to meet the uninterrupted gaze of the machine that crouched to enter into the small confines of the office.

From Len's trembling hand, the phone dropped and clattered on the tile as her eyes lifted further and further still to meet the blue, electronic eyes of the towering monster that fixated on her. The broadening smile of gleaming teeth opened and a single word growled into the silence.

" _Maggie_."

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	8. The Smile in the Shadows

_Hello, everybody! All this new Five Nights at Freddy's 4 stuff has really got me in the mood to write. Just love seeing all the playthroughs! Anyway, hope you enjoy! Maybe like... two chapters left? I dunno. I could write this forever._

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From the moment they last shared together until now, Freddy was consumed by the young woman that stood before him. With his obsession burning through his wires, he could scarcely contain his delight as he towered above her with nothing standing between them anymore. No doors could restrain him, no power could limit him. With the pizzeria shrouded in darkness and his obsession standing petrified before him, Freddy would begin his final performance.

But in such darkness, she could not see him. He could not have that. He wanted her to watch. He wanted her to experience every moment of this as he would and so he brightened the light of his luminescent eyes to illuminate the office. The shadows of the flickering, light emphasized the horror etched on her face. Freddy could not contain himself any longer.

His voice box rattled as he rumbled a deep laugh.

The needlelike edges of his fingers tore open the skin clinging to his frame to expose his inner wires and workings. Among the mess of burnt wires and rusting metal, a small, ornate box sat. His laugh grew, hysterical, as he pried the box from his chest and opened its lid. From its contents, black ooze bubbled and trickled down the sides of the music box. Black and blacker still, it pooled on the ground between he and the girl trembling in unadulterated horror. From the blackness, a face rose, a smiling face, an old and dear friend.

Appendages grew from the mess of black morphing ooze; white bands circled its long and willowy limbs. A pale light glowed from the hollow eyes of the puppet and its smile broadened. Riddled with excitement and hungry for the thrill of a chase, Freddy's eyes flickered to Len as he commanded.

"Run."

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Fear fueled Len to escape the office as the cackle of Freddy Fazbear erupted through his grin and his masked phantom clawed the ground after her. Through darkness, she ran, blind. Cries built in her throat and were only swallowed by her gulping breaths as she sprinted forward daring not to look back to see the white eyes of the puppet crawling after her. Her thoughts were lost, tattered and torn, as all she could think of, all she dared to hope for, was survival.

When she made it to the dining room, she shifted her way past chairs and tables. She needed to power back on the breaker box. She needed to power back on the building. The keys to the front door were in the office. If she wanted to escape, if she wanted to survive, she would need them. Len rushed forward, colliding with all obstacles in her way. When she came to the far wall, she slammed against its surface. Her hands rose and felt along the creases in the wallpaper as she made her way toward where she believed the breaker box was. If she could not do this in a single, swift attempt, the marionette would catch her.

Len steadied her breaths.

At last, her fingers touched the metal of the breaker box and with frantic nails she pried open its casing and clawed at the switches inside. With a flick, light illuminated the dining room. As her hand swept the remaining switches, a sight caught her eye and brought her to turn. Horror froze her where she stood as she looked to the front door.

Chairs and tables were jammed against the door in a barricade.

Freddy trapped her inside.

The chasing sound of scraping brought Len to turn just soon enough to see the puppet bounding through the air with arms outreached for her. With a scream, Len ducked and fell to a side as the puppet caught on the wall and spun its mask to face her once more.

Len's chest rose and fell with every gulping breath she took. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted down the East Hallway. Before she made it back to the security office, Len spun on the soles of her shoes and darted into the men's bathroom. The tile was slick beneath her feet and the light above the rows of sinks and urinals was flickering and dim. A musky smell overwhelmed her. Dried urine and mildew brought her to wince before her hands carefully, and quietly, pushed opened one of the stalls and she slid into its confinement to hide.

Her eyes fixated on the illuminated crack of the door as she stepped backward until her calves hit the porcelain of the toilet. She needed a moment to gather herself, needed a moment to think.

Thomas would be on his way. He would show up and see the lights turned on, see that the door was barred. He would call the police—but how long would it take for them to come? And what was that thing following her? Where did it come from? Did Thomas know about it?

Before Len could allow her thoughts to consume her, a shadow darkened the area by the crack of the stall door she hid behind. The breath caught in her throat and held as she listened to the sound of footsteps, loud and rumbling like thunder, approach. Len's shaking hands rose and covered the cry that tried to force its way up her throat.

"Maggie," Len's worst nightmare beckoned. "Where are you?"

Her eyes winced shut.

"Are we playing… a game… Maggie?"

This was a dream. This was just a dream and she would wake up.

"… a game… just like before. I always know… how to find you… Maggie."

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

Tears welled in Len's eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

A shadow drew over her stall door; the pacing machine came to a stop.

Len's eyes opened.

Through the crack of the door, Len could see Freddy. He was looking elsewhere with a smile pulling at the tattered parts of his suit. Where the holes in his fur ran, she could see the endoskeleton beneath. Freddy laughed, low and deep.

"… Maggie… look up."

A cold breath filled Len's chest. Her skin gasped and shivered before her eyes slowly rose to see the smile of the puppet that hung above the stall, perched and still. Its fingers released from the grip it held and, like a spider, it crawled against the walls of the stall in rapid descent. A scream shattered through Len's teeth and she flung herself at the door, tossed it open, and ran. An arm caught her, stunting her escape. Metal shoved against her gut and she lost her breath.

"Game… over," Freddy growled as he curled his skeletal fingers into Len's hair and dragged her from the bathroom.

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Len's nails broke and frayed as they dug into the metal hand that dragged her along. Pain enveloped her as more tears filled her eyes to blind her. Her body flailed and her heels dug into the tile of the dining room, but none of her efforts mattered against the strength of the machine. Effortlessly, she was lifted, and tossed into the dimness of the backroom. Her body twisted across the ground where bolts lay to indent in her skin and legs until she at last lied still. Her back heaved as she wept. With weak and battered hands, Len feebly pushed herself up.

Scraps of metal and coils of wire littered the backroom floor. The barrels and boxes of spare parts for the characters were upturned and tossed carelessly about the room. Beside Len were the remnants of an animatronic suit. The gold fabric was ripped and scattered leaving it to be unknown as to what the suit even was. All these oddities and unknowns did not horrify her like the item at the back of the room that had not been there the night before. Standing against the wall of newspaper clippings was an animatronic that Len had never seen before. Its suit was crudely crafted and its body was left gaping, vacant of all the hardware that composed the other characters. The sound of footsteps neared and Len turned to see Freddy admiring the golden rabbit animatronic.

"I made you… a gift."

Len remained silent.

Freddy's blazing eyes lowered to her.

"… to become… like us."

The gaping maw of the smiling, golden animatronic waited for her, a hole crafted perfectly to fit a body. As the waves of realization overcame Len, she scrambled to stand, but Freddy caught her. His grip tightened on her arm as he dragged her closer to the new character.

"P-please," Len begged in faint breath, "… please, l-let me go."

Thoughts warred against Len's weary mind, rushing and gushing as she clawed against Freddy's grip that could not be deterred. Sweat glistened over the extent of her skin; the dark tank top she wore became weighted and wet. With eyes burning with tears, Len looked up to see the marionette rising from behind the waiting animatronic suit. Though the flickering light of the overhead fluorescent lights illuminated the puppet's face, no manner of light could brighten the dark chasm of its wide smile. Tears, purple and thick, dripped from the gaping pits of its eyes where a piercing pinpoint of light escaped and watched her approach to the metallic confines of her coffin.

Len's chest heaved labored and choppy breaths. Her nerves were strung thin. Fear and misery devoured her senses.

Just then, Len heard glass shatter.

Freddy stopped and turned quick to cast his eyes out to the dining room. The grip he had on Len's arm tightened bringing her to wince and let out a frail yelp.

The puppet abandoned the golden animatronic and floated closer to Freddy, its eyes were drawn to the sound just as its counterpart's had been.

"Kill it," Freddy commanded.

The marionette breathed an airy laugh before darting for the door. It lowered to the floor and slithered against its surface, silent and creeping like a shadow. At its leave, Len's eyes searched the extent of the backroom. With the moment bought by the worrisome sound of breaking glass, Len could look for something to stop the monstrous machine.

An unyielding force tugged at her arm, drawing her to turn and face the colossal animatronic that loomed over her.

The glowing light of its demonic eyes trapped Len's breath in her throat. Against the size of the machine, she felt so very small, so helpless. The cool metal of Freddy's fingers brushed against the curve of her cheek before stroking harder to slice at her skin. Len's mouth contorted in pain as she tried to withdraw from the metallic embrace, but Freddy did not allow that.

"… do not… be afraid."

Len trembled beneath Freddy's shadow. With his weight drawing her, he led her to the waiting suit.

"… we will… be together… forever."

Len's head shook. The tawny lengths of her hair drenched with sweat and grime tossed. No manner of words could escape her now quivering lips as all her pleas were pooled and streaming down her bloodied cheek in endless tears.

"... won't that… be nice… Maggie?"

"P-please…"

"… together…"

"S-stop."

"… _forever_."

The cool metal of the opened animatronic kissed at her skin as Freddy gently urged her backward into the suit. Just as her back touched the pricking pins of the endoskeleton's spine, the backroom door opened further.

"Freddy," a voice barked.

The light of Freddy's eyes darkened as he turned to face the intruder. In the threshold of the room, a young man stood with the grip of a metal axe in his hands. Sweat coated his face and in his dark eyes brewed a tempest of anger and fear alike.

"… _Mike_." The word spat from the machine's mouth in disbelief and anger.

Freddy's body rumbled with a growl before he dashed forward after the man who led the machine out into the dining room. Len stumbled from the confines of the golden suit as crashing sounds of metal and wood erupted from beyond the backroom door. Limping and weak, she made her way forward.

Overcome with blinding rage, Freddy heaved the weight of one of the banquet tables across the room. The man darted out of the way before the table struck against the wall where it imbedded and cracked plaster. From behind, the black limbs of the marionette seized at the man's neck. Stumbling and gasping, he threw his back against the wall before ripping the puppet from his shoulders and tossing it aside. The stranger's eyes darted at Len and he called out.

"Get out of here! Now!"

As the man's demand reached Len, so did Freddy's livid eyes.

Bearing the pain shooting through her legs, Len limped past the stage and for the shattered remains of wood and glass the stranger had broken to enter the pizzeria. The ground quaked behind Len, fueling her to move even faster for the door as a word hissed through a speaker box, snarling and enraged.

" _Maggie_."

The length of a shadow overcame her and brought Len to turn to see the outreached, skeletal hands of the incensed machine chasing her. A scream curdled in her throat, but before it was released, sparks spat and Freddy teetered as the man drove the blade of his axe into the machine's leg.

Abandoning the axe to stay in the metal of Freddy's leg, Mike rushed forward and looped Len's arm around his neck before leading her through the front door. Following behind them was a scream, enraged and vengeful, that turned Len's blood cold and brought her vision to blur. She felt her weight lifted and forced into the passenger seat of a truck. Mike slammed shut her door before sprinting for the driver's side. Bounding into his vehicle, Mike hit the gas causing tires to spin and rocks to fly.

The truck lurched and flew from the parking lot leaving the pizzeria, and the dark creatures that lurked there, behind.

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 _Da-da-da-daaaa! Security Guard Mike to the rescue! Huzzah! 83_


	9. Mike's Story

_Okay, so like... one more chapter or something. I don't know. I keep saying it's going to end, but I just can't end it! I hate when a fanfic comes to an end. It makes me so sad. Hope you enjoy!_

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Len's thoughts were spinning as she listened to the growl of the engine as it switched from gear to gear. Her eyes drifted to the man beside her who wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand before reaching down to a pack of cigarettes. His hands fumbled the pack, and the lighter, before he forced the end of a straight, pale cigarette between his lips and quickly lit it.

"Fuck that place," he mumbled against the cigarette. "Fuck… fuck… _fuck_."

"H-How… how did you know I… I needed…" with trembling lips, Len found it difficult to speak. All she wanted to do was cry.

"You called me," Mike said as he flicked ashes to the floorboard of the truck. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles paling. "Fucking Freddy Fazbear. Fucking piece of shit." His nose sniffed and he shifted his eyes over to her. "Nighttime security, right? Don't fucking tell you you'll be fighting for your life every goddamn night, do they? That's not in the manual. 'Five scheduled shifts of midnight to six, murderous animatronics to follow'. Fuck."

"W-where are we… going?"

"I don't fucking know," Mike snapped before taking a hand from the steering wheel to rub harshly at his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, I just… I just need a minute. I never thought I'd go back there. I just. I'm sorry."

As Mike drew in a choppy breath, Len turned her eyes out past the dust-ridden windshield. Streetlamps passed by them as did the stoplights. There was still hours left until the break of dawn and Len believed it would feel like eternity until she saw the sun again. Garish, electronic lights were the only things to see as they drove through the night, where, Len did not know.

"You're Maggie, right?"

Len glanced over to see Mike's dark eyes staring at her before flickering back to the road before them.

"Magdalena," she softly said. "Len… Len is fine."

"… but Freddy called you Maggie."

Len glanced over to see Mike's grip tightening on the steering wheel.

"S-some people call me Maggie," Len said. "I don't like it, though. It… it sounds like a little girl name."

Her answer did not seem to please Mike who remained quiet for some time. Len lowered her eyes to her hands still trembling atop the stained fabric of her torn jeans. Her fingers entwined and gripped together in an attempt to steady herself. The engine hummed and the truck pulled up to a stoplight, still red.

"You're bleeding."

Len looked up to Mike to see him studying her again. Her hand rose and brushed against the sore curve of her cheek where Freddy's knifelike fingers had cut her. "Oh," she breathed. "I… I didn't know."

Mike flicked on the turn signal and, when the light turned green, he started down a different street. "I live just down the road. You can get cleaned up and call whoever you need to call, or I can take you home, if you want."

"I think I should stay with you," Len said still shaken. "I-Is that okay?"

Mike pinched his shoulders together in a shrug before letting off a weak laugh. "If I just went through what you did, there's no way in hell I'd want to be alone. You can stay with me as long as you want."

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The truck pulled to the curb before a set of apartment complexes. With Len in tow, Mike led her inside to his room on the first floor. He unlocked his door and stepped aside for Len to enter. There was not much décor in the apartment, even less furniture. As Len stood by the mismatched kitchen table and chairs, Mike walked over to a lamp and switched it on.

"I know it's not much to look at," he softly apologized before making his way to the bathroom, "but it's home."

When he returned, he had a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a bottle of alcohol in the other. Len took a seat at the kitchen table and allowed Mike to dab the alcohol drenched wad of toilet paper at her face.

"… he sure did a number on you, didn't he?" Mike breathed as he withdrew from Len's cheek when she winced.

"It could have been worse," Len answered. Her eyes squinted as Mike patted the wad against the gash in her cheek.

When Mike finished, he stood back and looked down to Len with sorrow hanging from the corners of his lips. "Still…"

"Was it like that when you were there? Was… _he_ like that?" Len carefully asked before her eyes shifted up to look at Mike. He was a few years her senior, but the creases of fear wrinkling the space between his brow and below the dark color of his eyes made him look much older.

As Mike considered her question, he walked over to his fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. Using the corner of the kitchen cabinets, he popped off the caps before returning to sit with Len at the kitchen table. He slid a beer to her before taking a drink of his own.

"The first few nights weren't bad," Mike reminisced as the memories fogged over his eyes. "The worst ones were the chicken and the rabbit. I can't even remember their names now. Sometimes the fox would come out, but not often. It was near the end that Freddy finally came off the stage. I think… I think he got tired of waiting. It was a game to them, you know? Like… like they had it all planned. The recordings tell you that they just roam around, curious little fucks, but… but I think they knew what they're doing. They _want_ to kill people."

Len looked down to the cold beer sitting on the table before her. With an unsteady hand, she picked it up and took a swig. The bitter taste fizzed over her tongue before rushing down the length of her throat. Her knuckles rose and wiped at her lips.

"I had a friend once," Mike said quietly as he looked down to the amber gleams of his beer. "He worked at the old restaurant—the pizzeria, I mean. He used to call me after his shift and tell me about how Freddy was after him. Every night he called me. He sounded so scared. He never liked the animatronics, so I just figured he was letting it all get to him. I told him, I said, 'Jeremy, you'll be fine. Just one more night, right?'" A weak smile pulled over Mike's face and he took another sip from his beer. "You know what happened to him the day he went to get his check?"

Len remained quiet, her eyes fixated on the tears welling in Mike's eyes.

"It was some birthday party, some stupid last gig he had to do. He went in to work and came out on a fucking stretcher. One of those… those _fucking_ monsters… ripped his head _in half_. And the worst part of it? He fucking lived. For the rest of his life he'll be hooked up to fucking wires and catheters and fed through a fucking tube."

"Mike," Len breathed low.

His head shook and he let off a laugh. "You think… you think after that, I wouldn't work there. I thought, you know… maybe it was just a malfunction. They shut the pizzeria down, tossed all the new animatronics and kept the old ones. I thought it was all a freak accident. Maybe the new ones did it. I remember the old ones from the first Fazbear's and they… they never acted like that. Well, Freddy did, but… with reason."

"What do you mean?" Len asked.

"It was a long time ago," Mike said. "I was a punk then, so was Jeremy. We used to vandalize and steal shit. We thought we were fucking cool. Our friends, they wanted to break into the Fazbear place. We stole a golden Freddy suit once, but they wanted to go back and steal some cash. One night, me and Jeremy, we were waiting outside the place for the other guys to show up and we saw the owner's daughter outside. I thought, you know, she might have cash on her. Her parents were fucking loaded from the restaurant, and we didn't really want to break into the place at fucking night, so I convinced Jeremy to get her to fork over her money.

"He didn't want to—Jeremy is… was… always better than me. He may have done shitty stuff, but I always pushed him. He went out and tried to get her to give him her backpack, but she ran for the door. I thought it was funny, you know. She was just a little girl, terrified of Jeremy—he wouldn't have done anything to her. He looked just as scared as her when she started to cry.

"He was about to bail, about to head back to the car when fucking Freddy bursts through the glass door and attacks Jeremy. I had to hit the fucker with my car to get him off. We got stopped a bit down the road and taken in. Destruction of property and attempted robbery. We both got a year in jail, released early on parole—we were barely sixteen, but we've had brushes before with the law. It was the last time we ever ran with that crowd, last time we did anything stupid.

"Freddy… he was just protecting the little girl." Mike shifted in his seat before taking another drink. "I think when she disappeared… that's when the fuckers lost it."

"Did they ever find her?" Len asked, her eyes wide from listening to Mike's story.

Mike hesitated before lifting his eyes to look at Len.

"They did."

"They did?" Len echoed in disbelief. "Where is she? Does she know what happened to the other children?"

Mike laughed and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes.

"You… you don't remember anything, do you?"

Len hesitated. Confusion furrowed her brow before she said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It makes sense that Freddy went fucking nuts when you showed up. He was already a psycho; you probably just made things worse."

"—wait, what did I do?"

"And you can't even remember him. That probably just pissed him off more."

"Wait, just… wait a second." Len's hands rose to stop Mike's flurry of words. With her thoughts unraveled and her head spinning by all that had happened tonight, none of this was making any sense to her. The puzzle pieces of Mike's words slowly fell into place. "Are you… are you saying that I'm—"

Mike rose from his chair and stalked off into the living room, taking with him the words building on Len's tongue. She watched him, warily, as he shoved aside boxes and dug into the depths of a stack of papers. When he found whatever item he meant to retrieve, he returned to Len and tossed down the weight of a newspaper on the table.

"The picture," Mike said.

Len hesitantly reached for the paper and drew it closer. The headline matched one of the newspaper clippings she read in the backroom. The picture was of a family standing before a decorated stage where a single, smiling animatronic stood.

"It's the Fazbears," Len said as she looked over the smiling faces.

"Read the names," Mike said before taking his seat once more.

"Owners, Fred and Maria Fazbear, and their daughter…"

"Magdalena Fazbear," Mike finished. "She went by Maggie back then."

" _Maggie_." Freddy's voice buzzed in her ear.

Len's eyes hesitated on the name of the little girl smiling through the aged picture of the article. Her head began to slowly shake. "But… I can't be… I'm—"

"You know, it's not weird that you don't remember me or even Jeremy, but you can't even remember Fazbear's Restaurant? You grew up there. I heard you were institutionalized when they found you. Your doctors must have pumped all sorts of shit into you in order to get you to forget everything."

Still gripping the paper in hand, still staring down at the photo of the family, the photo of Freddy, Len fell silent and still.

"Look ," Mike started. "I don't know if you were supposed to never remember, but, under the circumstances, I thought you needed to know. I knew what Freddy was capable of when I worked as the security guard, but now that you're in the picture, I don't… really know what to expect. If you need a job, I can… fuck, I can help. I think there's an opening at the amusement park I work at, just like, a janitorial gig, but it's better than fucking going back to Freddy Fazbear's."

Len lowered the paper before raising her hands to hold up her head heavy with thoughts.

"What happened?" Len asked.

Mike fell silent.

Len lifted her head to look up at Mike. "What happened to my parents? They're still alive, aren't they?"

Mike bit into his lips.

"I heard… Maria committed suicide. It was a few years after the place shut down. Child services took you away and she just… lost it."

Len's shoulders slumped. Her eyes returned to the picture of the smiling family. "And my dad?"

"Last I heard, the police were looking for him. They think he had something to do with the children going missing, but he left town." Mike stood up and took his empty beer bottle to the sink. "I think there's a better picture of him in that article. It's like, a mug shot—but everyone's family is fucked up, Maggie—look, I'll help you get a job and we'll fix this, all right? Don't let this get you down. You're done with that place and you can move on. I can… I can write down the number of the amusement park for you… let me just… find a pen."

As Mike went off to search for a pen, Len opened the newspaper and sorted through its pages. Her eyes skimmed the muddled lines of ink until she came to the photo Mike had told her about.

The bold letters of the article matched the one she found in the backroom of the pizzeria and the image she now looked at did not have the slashes of ink across the man's eyes. As Len looked now to the picture of who may be her father, her hands began to tremble.

"Mike," Len called with an airy breath.

"… yeah, I've got the number down for you, I would call them—"

Tears welled in her eyes and she quickly dropped the newspaper where the mug shot of Thomas was printed in dark ink.

"—Mike," Len called louder.

Returning to the kitchen, Mike looked to Len's paling face. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Call the police," Len breathed as she rose from her chair and ran to the door.

"O-okay—hey, where are you going?" Mike started after her.

"Just call them and send them to the diner," Len demanded as she fumbled with the door's locks. "Call them and tell them that they need—"

The words froze on Len's tongue as she opened the door.

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"… I found you… _Maggie_."

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	10. Freddy's Game

_Only one chapter after this one. I was going to make this a super long chapter, but decided against it. The last one should be up sometime this weekend. Thank you all for reading and I hope you've enjoyed. I've had a lot of fun writing this._

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With every step Len took back from the animatronic that crouched and forced its way into Mike's apartment, her horror reached newfound heights. The nightmare that plagued Len every night resurfaced to walk through her reality and strip her of all her thoughts and warmth. Beneath the looming shadow of the mechanical carcass of Freddy Fazbear, Len stood petrified.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Mike breathed.

"… you are being… a bad girl… Maggie," Freddy rumbled as he moved closer, shaking the floorboards beneath his unsteady steps.

Len inched backwards with her gaping eyes fixated on the haunting grin of the machine that followed her. With the two worlds of normality and nightmares fusing, she was at a loss of thought, of emotion. She felt empty and frozen as she tried to piece together her shattered world, as she tried to make sense of this chaos.

"Len," Mike called.

Freddy's eyes flickered to Mike. His countenance shifted. The beaming smile was replaced swift with the contortion of anger, of hate. In the time it took her to blink, the machine changed. The lunacy of its happiness was saved for her, but for Mike, Len could not begin to understand the relationship bonded between man and machine over the course of five, fateful nights. Her legs knocked against one of the kitchen chairs causing it to drag and moan. At the sound, Freddy's attention returned to her and the malice was restored to a smile.

"… but that is… okay… Maggie. I still… love you."

"Len," Mike called, louder.

With her weight pressed back onto the table and her body leaning away from the still approaching machine, Len gaped in horror as skeletal fingers lifted to stroke at her cheeks and brush away the tears building on her eyes, a kindness that only ended with her skin being torn by jagged metal and the warmth of blood streaming down her face.

"… it is time… to go home."

"Len! _Move_!"

Len's eyes flickered over to see the gun Mike held. Reanimated by his voice, Len tore herself from Freddy's hands. Her skin split, blood bubbled. A cry of pain rushed from her throat. Before Freddy could follow after her, the roar of gunfire split the stillness of the apartment. The echoes pounded against Len's ears and forced her to stumble and fall to the kitchen floor. Sparks spat and Freddy teetered. His weight collided with the kitchen cabinets. Wood shattered and the tile countertop split. At the machine's fall, Mike rushed to Len's side and pulled her to her feet. His momentum did not stop and with a hand clasped tight to hers, he pulled her to the front door. Len's curiosity could not be restrained as her eyes shifted to watch Freddy rise from the ruined cabinets with the heat of unrivaled fury burning through the lights of his eyes. A scream, deafening, erupted from the machine's voice box before it chased after them.

"The truck!" Mike shouted. "Get to the truck!"

Their shoes skidded across the floor as they threw themselves out from the apartment and down the hall. The sound of cracking plaster and shattering wood boomed from behind them as Freddy barreled through the doorway of the apartment after them. Mike forced open the complex's front entrance door to allow the cool air of the midsummer night to greet the sweat building on their skin. Len rushed down the paved sidewalk and jerked open the passenger side door before bounding inside its cab. As Mike rushed to the other side, Len watched in mortified amazement as Freddy shattered through the entranceway they just escaped. The dim light of the overhead streetlights paled in comparison to the fierce, blue light of Freddy's electronic gaze.

"Mike?" Len called with the needles of fear pricking her heart.

Mike leapt up into the cab and fumbled the keys.

Freddy stormed closer in long strides. Through the glass of the window, Len could hear the whirl of cogs and hiss of pumps. The sound of quickened, roaring footsteps mirrored the fervent pounds of her heart.

"Mike!" Len warned as she drew back from the window Freddy approached.

"I know, I know—give me a fucking second!"

Pale lights illuminated the truck's dashboard as the engine growled to life. Mike's hand was swift at the shifter and the truck lurched, tires spun, before they quickly sped off down the street.

Len settled in her seat. With each breath she panted, her heart calmed. A hand, quivering with excitement and fright, rose to lay atop the skin above her heart. Her eyes closed and she exhaled a deep breath.

"… you've got to be fucking kidding me," Mike breathed.

Len's eyes opened and flickered over to Mike who sat gaping at the rearview mirror.

Frightened, she turned in her seat and glanced out the back window. Through the rising veils of exhaust, two, blue lights cut through the shrouds of night and drew ever closer. Len's eyes flickered over to the needle of the truck's speedometer.

"H-how fast are you going?" she asked, fearful of the answer.

"Not fucking fast enough," Mike growled before slamming his foot down against the gas pedal.

The engine roared. The needle rose.

Len turned her eyes back out the rear window to see the shining eyes following in quick pursuit. Her nails dug into the fabric of the seat as Mike took a corner much too fast. No matter how he tried to evade the machine, it was not shaken from their trail. Len steadied her labored breaths before turning forward to look out the windshield.

"What street are we on?" she asked with eyes searching for a sign.

"Fuck, Maple? I-I don't know."

"Get to the diner. Drop me off and—"

"—are you fucking serious?!—"

"— _drop me off_ ," Len repeated, "and go to the police. Get them to come to the diner. Look, he's not going to stop following us until we run out of gas or he drops dead." Her eyes flickered over to the gas meter. "… and the former isn't too far from now."

Mike's knuckles paled as he gripped at the steering wheel.

"What are you going to do?" Mike asked. "You can't fight him."

"I wasn't planning on it," Len said. "We need to get him back to the diner. He could hurt people, Mike."

"He's going to hurt _you_ ," Mike stressed with a pinched brow. "Maggie—I can't let that happen."

"It won't. Look, I survived against him this long. Get me to the diner, I'll keep him there. Get the police. I know how we can end this. I know how to get the place shut down, okay? Just, trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Mike hesitated. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His shoulders tensed and he turned his eyes back out to the road before taking another quick turn.

"Don't make me regret this," Mike hissed with words laced in fear.

The truck swung into the vacant parking lot and stayed only long enough for Len to jump out. Before she closed the door, she heard Mike call out to her.

"—they're all still in there, aren't they? The other machines?"

Len hesitated. Her eyes lifted to meet Mike's concerned gaze.

"I can do this," she told him. "Hurry. He'll be here soon."

Mike nodded and cranked the shifter into drive. "Be careful. I'll be back, I promise."

With that, the truck raced from the parking lot and disappeared down the road. Alone and surrounded by the quiet of the early morning hours, Len turned toward the building of Freddy Fazbear's Restaurant and waited. She needed to make sure Freddy would follow after her and not Mike. Len swallowed the lump building in her throat and, to steady her shaking fingers, curled her hands into fists. It did not take long for her to hear the whirl of cogs and hiss of pumps. At the sound, no manner of method could stop her hands from shaking.

Beneath the waterfall of golden light falling from the streetlights above, Freddy approached. The smile he once held for her was gone and in its place hung a scowl. Len backed her way to the shattered remnants of the front door. Shards of glass crackled beneath her feet.

Freddy fell short before her, his shoulders rising and falling as he seethed.

"… I'm… done playing… games," he growled.

Len exhaled a choppy breath. Her head shook and she called to him, "One more game. Hide and Seek in the diner. J-Just like we used to play, remember? I-If I win, you have to let me go."

A smile curled over Freddy's face.

"… and if I… win?"

Len's tongue flickered out over the dry patches of her lips as she prepared herself. "If you win… I'll stay. We'll… we'll be together, like you wanted. I-I won't run anymore. I'll stay here forever."

A laugh rumbled from Freddy's chest as he sauntered closer, forcing Len to draw back.

"—but _you_ have to find me. Y-You can't use any tricks. No machines, n-no puppets," Len said in a quick flurry as her back met the broken frame of the front door. "O-One last game, Freddy. I swear."

The breath Len held in her throat rushed out in a moan as Freddy loomed over her in a tall and dark silhouette with only the light of his eyes and smile piercing through the shadows.

"… I have you now… _why_ would… I play… your game?"

Len's lips sealed in a line as a single bead of sweat rolled down her cheek and lingered at the point of her chin. She wanted to turn and run, every inch of her body wanted nothing more than to escape the cool shade casted by Freddy Fazbear, but she refused to take her eyes from him. She knew if she did, he would charge her. Though he stood still and affable with a smile broad across his face, Len could tell he would not remain like that for long.

"Because you hate to lose," Len whispered, "and if you don't play my game, then you don't think you can win."

Freddy's smile tapered.

The light of his eyes narrowed on her as the malice rose once more to overcome his feigned kindness.

"Do we have a deal?" Len pushed.

The jagged pointed of Freddy's teeth gleamed from the darkness of his mouth as a growl rumbled deep in his chest.

" _One… last… game._ "

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 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far. I'm going to be so sad when this ends. I love writing FNAF stuff. One more chapter! Have a good weekend!_


	11. The End

_This is the final chapter of 'They're All Monsters', thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. I had a lot of fun writing this and it's so sad that it's over. I hope you enjoy this last segment (sorry it's like, forever long), let me know what you think! And thanks for reading!_

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When Freddy gave Len a nod to proceed into the diner, she ultimately, and quite silently, refused. While the smiling character had agreed to her terms, and appeared to be honoring them, Len's caution brought her to fear turning her back to him and her attention away. Though Len had the patience to wait for a reaction, Freddy did not. The metallic grip of his jagged claw swept forward and snatched Len's arm. Despite the struggle she presented him with, and the gasps of pain she gulped, he did not relinquish his hold on her until they had entered the darkness of the vacant building. The havoc wrought in the dining room from the night's previous exertions remained and was only barely noticeable beneath the now faltering overhead lights. Atop the stage, the remaining characters stood posed, frozen, and asleep.

Freddy released Len with a push forward, placing himself between her and the only exit of the Fazbear restaurant. As she stumbled and drew a hand up to grip at the now bleeding skin of her arm, Len spun her head to watch as Freddy ambled closer.

"No puppet… no machines," he echoed her demands.

Len swallowed down the lump raising from her throat, the same lump that carried the weight of her suppressed tears and the burden of her pain. It was not the time to cave beneath the heaviness of her emotions, she needed to be strong.

"Yes," Len quietly said. "One last game to settle it all."

Freddy gave a nod of understanding before sidestepping Len to approach the dark metal flap of the breaker box. His fingers effortlessly pried off the metal and tossed it aside.

"You have your… demands… and I have… mine," Freddy said as he began to flip the switches.

Across the extent of the building, the power faded. Waves of darkness swallowed the lengths of the hallways as the buzzing of fluorescent lights fell to silence. Len watched in rising dread as the shadows crept closer. Her eyes flickered back to Freddy.

"… it will be… done in darkness." Freddy's cold, luminescent eyes shifted to meet Len's tentative gaze before the light of his electric, blue eyes faded. "Absolute… darkness."

With the final switch shifted, the light of the dining room extinguished and Len was swallowed in the maw of pitch black.

Her sight flickered, searched, but the curtains of shadows swallowed all manner of light. She heard footsteps tremble the tile as they approached her. Her chest rose and fell swift with panted breath as she began to withdraw only to feel her calves hit against what she believed to be an upturned banquet table.

"… you can still try to run," Freddy's static-free voice rumbled against her ear, petrifying her.

"Afraid I'll win?" Len challenged with immediate regret.

A haunting laugh, low and quiet, sent a cold chill to course down her neck. She was no longer sure where Freddy stood as his laugh danced beside her, and then before her, and behind her.

"… you have thirty seconds to hide."

Len's shoulders tensed, she spun in the darkness, trying to catch the sight of blue eyes that had since darkened. "—thirty seconds?—but that's not—"

" _Twenty_ seconds."

Len swallowed her words and quickly made her way through the shattered remnants of chairs and tables scattered across the dining room. Her feet caught on broken wood and she faltered. Though her thoughts were racing, she whispered the passing seconds with forced serenity. Her hands met the far wall of the dining room.

"Ten seconds," Freddy's voice called.

Len rushed along the wall. While her fingers slid against a slick, cold slime, she could not hesitate, not anymore. When she came to the opening of the hallway, she ran down its length with her hands feeling against the wall for the first corner. Blind and frightened, Len pushed onward. The soles of her sneakers slipped against—a banner? Fallen streamers?—but she continued. She thought of using the office to cross to the Western hallway, but with Freddy stalking her through the dark, and Len no longer being able to use the light of his eyes to locate him, the idea of chancing a collision with the mechanical titan terrified her.

The police station was a few miles from the diner—she just needed to preoccupy Freddy until Mike returned.

But what if he didn't?

Len shook the train of thought from her head before its horror could plague her. No, Mike would come back for her. He promised.

As the cold metal of the office door kissed her fingertips, Len stopped her trek. She lingered for a moment as she tried to decide her next move. Her ears strained in the silence for the pounding of footsteps, but she heard nothing.

Silence.

Complete silence.

Absolute darkness.

Len's mouth ran dry as she panted breath. How could he be silent now? She always could hear the whirl of his cogs and the creak of his metal bones, yet now, there was nothing. The sound of silence terrified her more than she could imagine. Because of that, Len lowered to her knees and crawled perpendicular to the frame of the broken, office door. Her hands patted against the wall in search while she attempted to calm her breathing.

If Freddy was silent, so should she be.

Again, she felt cool metal and lowered herself further. Gingerly, Len shimmied her body into the cramped vent that connected the Eastern hallway to the kitchen. Though she feared the scrapping metal of a claw that could easily reach into the vent and remove her like ripping a maggot from a festering wound, Len needed to be slow and ensure that she would not bang her elbows or knees against the pliable, metal covering of the vent.

Her chest felt weighted as she shimmied onward through the tight opening of the vent. She felt trapped, buried alive. Each breath she took felt warmer, thicker. If she could, she would hide here forever. The vent was hardly big enough for her, she knew Freddy could not come in after her, but there was something that could.

A white face with a gaping smile.

At the thought of the puppet clawing through the vent like a spider after her, beaming grin and all, Len continued forward. She did not know if she could believe Freddy's word that he would not unleash the nightmarish phantom to aid in his hunt, but she had to. If she let her fear of the puppet overcome her, she would not survive.

When Len came to the end of the vent, she paused to listen.

There was no sound of pots and pans clanging, no sound of the door creaking open, or footsteps creeping across black and white tile. Bracing herself, Len crawled out from the vent before sitting back on her heels to think.

It was more than just tempting to stay in the kitchen with the vent as a quick escape if Freddy were to enter, but if he came through the kitchen door, there was only one escape. Her thoughts went back to the puppet. The chance of her becoming trapped in the kitchen brought her to crawl forward. Her hands skimmed the side of the cabinet until she came to a break. Could she escape the kitchen without making a sound?

Just then, she heard the hiss of pumps.

Len froze.

Freddy was here.

The breath caught in her throat, she could not breathe. She could not dare to make a sound that he could hear. Against the wall of darkness encasing her, Len winced shut her eyes and waited. He moved in near silence, but she could hear him like a whispered breath. How could he have known she would be here? Of all the rooms there were, he knew she would come here first.

Len's nerves lit on fire when she heard the door creak open.

Following it, silence.

Did he truly leave?

Len waited.

Before she made her decision on whether or not to return to the vent or risk venturing forward to the kitchen door, the overhead lights above Len flickered to life and banished the darkness. She winced against the unexpected illumination. Confusion pinched at her brow. Why did Freddy turn on the lights?

Just then, a sweeping revelation overcame her.

Mike returned.

Len scrambled to her feet, nearly forgetting why she crept on hand and knee and held the breath in her throat. Sprinting and determined, Len bound past the corners of the cabinets and rusted stoves and fridges to the kitchen door. Her weight hit against it and flung it open for her to escape to the dining room. Hope pulled the corners of her lips into a smile, though fleeting as it was.

Her feet slowed and she came to a stop.

Her eyes gaped just as Thomas's eyes had when he saw her.

"Maggie?" he called, confused. "W-what are you doing here?"

Stricken in fear, no words escaped Len's lips.

Thomas stepped away from the breaker box, his eyes glued to her. Atop the cashier counter, Len saw two gasoline cans.

"I came earlier to check on you," he told her. "You weren't here and I… I saw the mess—"

"Why do you have gasoline?" Len breathed.

Thomas glanced back at the canisters before letting off a soft laugh that prickled bumps across Len's arms.

"Uh… they're for the animatronics."

He took a few steps closer. Len took a few steps back.

"… batteries," Len started, unable to find the strength of her voice.

Thomas's lips tapered. "Batteries?"

"They run on batteries," Len said. "You… you told me they run on batteries."

Thomas hesitated.

"Why did you want me to work here?" Len demanded in trembling breath.

"What are you—"

"—why did you _lie_ to me?" Len hissed. "This whole time… you've lied to me. I know who you are. Who you _really_ are."

Thomas's eyes narrowed on her before his shoulders fell. His chest puffed with a breath he soon released before sauntering closer to the stage.

"How did you find out?" Thomas asked with an indifferent tone.

At the sudden coldness of his voice, Len withdrew further. "Mike."

Thomas scoffed and mounted the stage where the remaining characters stood posed.

"This isn't how I figured things would turn out," Thomas said as he rounded behind Bonnie and paused to slip his hands beneath the suit and into a mess of wires and circuits. "I never thought you'd make it this far, Maggie, I'll be honest with you. You've grown up quite a bit since we last saw each other, haven't you? Your mother would be proud."

The crimson light breathed life to Bonnie's eyes before Thomas moved on to Chica.

"I was half-afraid with how close you were to Freddy that he wouldn't go after you. I'm glad to see I was wrong." The magenta light of Chica's eyes came to life before Thomas moved to the last animatronic on the stage. "When I got here early to see the dining room, I was…" Thomas paused a moment to laugh. "I was ecstatic."

"Why?" Len hissed.

Thomas pulled out a rag from his pocket to wipe at the oil on his hands as he smiled down from the stage. "Maggie, I had a good thing before you went and fucked it up. Years of being cautious, of being… fucking _smart_ —ruined because you ran off and got the police involved. Your mother," Thomas laughed as anger began contorting his face. "She wouldn't even look at me after she found out."

"The police are on their way, Fred," Len snapped. "Just give up."

"Give up?" Thomas echoed. "That's not exactly in the Fazbear motto, Maggie, you know that. No, I've got a few things left up my sleeves." The single, golden light of Foxy's eye breathed to life. "I had a feeling it would come down to this, but I'm always prepared. At least now, I'll get front row seats."

Len shifted her eyes across the characters posed on the stage.

"What are you doing to them?" Len demanded to know with her strength and confidence failing.

"Just tampering a bit," Thomas said before the characters began their descent from the stage with eyes fixated on Len. "With you gone, I can finally finish what I started—tying up loose ends, you know? It was good seeing you again, Maggie. You always were one of my favorite creations."

Thomas leapt off the stage and sauntered back to the cashier counter where the gasoline canisters sat while Len stumbled away from the approaching characters. Their bodies seized and wretched like souls possessed and all Len could do was gape in horror as they fanned out and created a wall between her and the only exit to the restaurant. Thomas loosened the caps on the gas canisters before upturning their weight and creating a trail of gasoline across the extent of the restaurant.

Fear contorted Len's face when Foxy cackled a maddening laugh and bound to life. The rows of jagged teeth bore through the dark maw of his mouth as he sprinted forward at her with hook raised and gleaming with a thirst for her blood. A cry shattered through Len's lips and she lowered to cower.

With lunacy burning bright in his single, golden eye, Foxy swung down his hook to sink deep beneath bone and flesh. A dark, heavy silhouette drew quick over Len bringing her to snap her gaze up to see Foxy's hook imbedded in the wires and charred, black metal of Freddy's arm.

The two titans of machinery and malice struggled against each other's strength before Freddy's skeletal hand gripped at the hook imbedded in his arm and tore it from where it penetrated. A scream, ear-shattering, wall-shaking, erupted through Freddy's jagged teeth causing Len's hands to fly up and cover her ears. Freddy rushed Foxy and barreled into him, launching him back to twist and shatter through the jutting remnants of banquet tables and chairs.

Seething, Freddy backed away from Bonnie and Chica as they circled at his sides.

"It's Fred," Len called to the machine standing defensive before her. "H-He did something to them!"

" _Fred_ ," the titan snarled.

Thomas tossed aside one of the empty canisters before turning to face his daughter and the first of his mechanical creations. "What are you doing, Junior? Let them have her."

" _Fred_ ," Freddy raged.

Thomas shook his head and began emptying the second canister. "Have it your way, Junior. You're just as big of a disappointment as Maggie."

At their creator's final word, Bonnie and Chica cackled with laughter of their own before bounding forward at Freddy. A flurry of colors twisted together as the machines tumbled and rolled through the wreckage of the dining room. Claws swiped back and forth as screams of hysteria and wrath boomed from rusted speakers. As the fight drew further away from Len, she rose and sprinted down the hallway with Thomas quick in pursuit.

Her legs became blurs beneath her and her breaths rushed out through her lips in horrified moans. She heard her name shouted from behind, but she did not stop. The walls shook and the floor quaked as the rumble of metallic titans continued. Only when Len came to the office door did she stop. Her hands, frantic and shaking, grabbed at the red telephone lying idle on the floor. Her fingers spun the dial, three numbers, a desperate plea.

The operator answered.

"—I'm at the old Fazbear restaurant," Len rushed over the speaker. "I need police—now! Please, send them—I'm at the old Fazbear restaurant—send someone, please—I—!"

A tug of force pried the phone from her hand and brought her attention to follow. A flash of movement was all she saw before a fist struck her cheek. Pain flooded her head now reeling. Her weight toppled. Elbows and knees struck hard against the tile below her. Her thoughts swam through darkness before she snapped alert and scrambled away from the man standing over her.

"Where are you going, Maggie?" Thomas called as he tossed the phone aside and followed after her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here now. I can make it all better."

"S-stay away from me," Len snarled as she clawed against the wall to stand.

"This is all your fault, Maggie. You should have kept your nose out of my fucking business. We could have been a happy family. We could have been happy, but _you_ ruined everything."

Thomas's hand tangled in Len's hair and with a violent tug, she fell into his arms. She flailed against his hold, screaming and struggling, as he fought to hold her still.

"You know, Maggie, I'm really fucking tired of playing games with you," Thomas growled as he removed the pocketknife from his back pocket. The blade flipped out from its cover. At the sight of the gleaming metal, Len fought to distance herself from the sharp sliver now held against the skin of her neck.

Len winced shut her eyes as she prepared for the sting of flayed skin and the warmth of blood that would follow, but the blade hesitated.

"… fuck," Thomas breathed in fear as he tightened his grip on Len.

Her eyes cracked open to peer down the hallway at the object of Thomas' rising fear. Beneath the flicker of lights overhead, the willowy and still figure of the puppet stood with wide eyes staring and its smile, broad.

"… n-no…" Thomas backed away, pulling Len with him. "… y-you stay the fuck away from me."

A whimsical giggle sang from the dark pit of the puppet's smile before it bound through the air with shadowed hands outreached. Len felt Thomas's hands loosen from her as he turned to run. At the puppet's approach, Len froze and watched as the pale mask grazed her cheek before it continued down the hall after Thomas.

Stumbling and weak, Len steadied herself on the wall before making her way down the hall to where the dining room now lay still. Torn and sparking remnants of characters scattered the floor as the sole survivor stood victorious.

Freddy's shoulders rose and fell as he seethed and glared down at the carcasses of dismembered endoskeletons beneath him. The fight did not come without consequence as the suit that clung to Freddy's frame was torn, exposing his charred, metallic skeleton beneath. Oil oozed from his neck, turning his matted fur slick and black. At the sight of him, Len hesitated, but she was not destined to be his next victim.

Tumbling from the threshold of the other hallway, Thomas fell, heaving frightened gulps of breath as he crawled away from the following puppet.

As Freddy caught sight of Thomas, he strode closer and swiped down a hand to seize at his neck. Effortlessly, Thomas was picked off the floor.

"F-Freddy, p-please, no—I'm sorry!" Thomas wept as he fought against the machine's grip. "L-Let me go—Freddy, let me go!"

The last remaining titan stared at his creator with cold eyes before shifting his sight to the approaching marionette.

The puppet beamed, giggling as it watched Thomas squirm.

"—Freddy, listen—listen to me, p-please—I-I can explain!—just fucking let me go! Please!"

Freddy turned, taking Thomas with him as he strode across the wreckage of the dining room toward the backroom door. The puppet chimed with laughter as it glided through the air swift after Freddy. Strung with morbid curiosity, Len followed. As she came to glance into the keep of the backroom, she heard struggles and gasps.

"F-Freddy—what—what are you doing? P-Please, s-stop this—I—aah—AAAAAAH—"

Freddy's claws tore into Thomas's chest, hooking beneath his ribs to conduct him like a puppet. Blood splattered across the cement as Thomas struggled and gurgled. Len's hands lifted and cupped her face as she could not take her eyes away from the scene she watched. Forcefully, Freddy jammed Thomas's body into the confines of the spring-trap animatronic.

"P-p-p-please," Thomas sputtered through bloodstained teeth.

As the puppet floated closer and slithered its way between the creases of Freddy's suit to return to the music box it came from, Freddy grabbed the lever at the animatronic's side and pulled it down. The spring-trap snapped shut, crushing bone and squishing meat between its metal jaws. Blood spat between the creases of metal and dripped down to pool beneath the once golden suit as Thomas was now a crushed and indistinguishable mound of meat. Freddy watched a moment more as the puddle of blood grew larger and larger before turning to look at Len.

"… leave… _now_."

"Freddy—"

Two arms, gold and red, encircled Freddy's neck and gripped. Len gaped in horror as she saw light flicker life into Springtrap's silver eyes. Clawing against the arms about his neck, Freddy heaved Springtrap over his shoulders and tossed him. Len bound from the side of the doorway to escape collision as Springtrap was flung into the dining room with Freddy in quick pursuit.

Rising from the ruins of the dining room, Springtrap stood and swayed. His eyes fell to look at his metallic fingers that curled in and out of a fist. A laugh rose through Springtrap's mouth as his crazed eyes lifted to send courses of chills down Len's spine.

Freddy's arm cranked back before he launched a punch at Springtrap who quickly evaded. The two possessed titans collided and clawed at one another. As Freddy shrieked a hateful scream, Springtrap's hysterical laughter grew.

Freddy barreled into Springtrap and together, they plummeted.

Brown and gold spun and wove as they twisted across the floor after one another. Springtrap forced himself atop Freddy and plunged a hand down into Freddy's suit. With a violent tug, Springtrap tore out a fistful of wires and circuits. Sparks spat from the gaping hole of Freddy's chest. A lick of light, a breath of heat, brought the dormant gasoline coating the dining room floor to engulf in a blazing inferno.

Len's hand rose to ward back the heat of the flames. Her eyes darted to the front door and she quickly made her way through the labyrinth of destruction and fire.

" _M-M-Maaaaagggieee…_ " Springtrap laughed as it rose from Freddy's charred carcass.

Len's steps hastened.

" _Don't you want to play_?"

Just as Len reached the door, the weight of hands grabbed at the lengths of her long hair and pulled her back into the dining room. Her body twisted and turned before Springtrap forced his hands around her throat and gripped. Clawing against the bloodied gold of the animatronic suit, Len fought to free herself. Her eyes widened in horror as Springtrap watched with fanatical delight as he strangled her.

The world began to darken, her body became light.

As a laugh started low and rose through Springtrap's grin, the charred metal of skeletal hands reached out before digging deep into Springtrap's head. Blood oozed through the sockets of silvered eyes and the teeth of a grinning smile. Len's weight dropped hard to the ground as Springtrap was dragged backwards into the encircling arms of Freddy Fazbear.

With an enraged snarl and unrivaled strength, Freddy crushed the suit in his arms forcing Springtrap to seize before falling limp. The golden suit fell hard from Freddy's arms as for the final time, he stood victorious.

The moment of victory was fleeting as Freddy struggled to stand. Stumbling, Freddy backed away from Springtrap before collapsing beneath his own weight. As plumes of dark smoke filled the air of the dining room, and the life began failing inside the last Fazbear creation, Len gripped at the cashier counter to raise herself off the floor. For a moment, she hesitated, and caught the flickering gaze of Freddy watching her.

"… goodbye… Maggie."

A breath escaped Len's lips and before she could find the words to say, the light of Freddy's eyes was gone.

Using the counter to steady herself, Len turned and limped through the wreckage of tables barricading the door where the light of morning waited for her.

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Flashing lights and sirens overwhelmed the once empty parking lot. The fire trucks came too late and no longer tried to save what little remained of the Fazbear Restaurant, but contain its blaze until the building had burnt to the ground.

As Len sat on the edge of an ambulance with a medic tending to the gashes in her arms, a police officer stood nearby getting her eye witness account. It was an electrical fire, she told them. She was finishing up her shift when the fire started and got her wounds from trying to escape. It was better than the truth, Len thought, and the officer did not question her any further. Perhaps it was what everyone wanted. The Fazbear Restaurant that haunted this town was no more.

Whether it was from arson or accident, the townspeople were glad to see it gone.

As the officer left her, another man approached.

She shifted on the edge of the ambulance to make room for him as he sat down.

"Did you mean to burn the place down?" Mike asked. "Or did you just see an opportunity and take it?"

"I didn't burn the place down," Len mumbled.

"Think they'll still give you your paycheck?"

"The company just lost a few million dollars in equipment; I doubt I'll see anything after this is done… well, maybe a lawsuit."

Mike pushed a laugh through his nose. "But hey, you survived Freddy Fazbear's, right? That's gotta be worth more than a paycheck."

"Pride doesn't exactly pay the bills, unfortunately."

"I still have that number for the amusement park, you know. I can talk to them for you, score you an interview or something," Mike offered with a soft smile.

"For the moment," Len started as she stood from the edge of the ambulance. "I just want a hot meal and a shower."

"Where you wanna go?" Mike asked as he followed suit and stood. "My treat."

"You don't have to do that, Mike," Len said.

"Think of it as a Hero's reward." Mike said. "You just toppled one of the most evil corporations in the country. You deserve a lot more than a free breakfast."

"Well, buy me some coffee, too, and we'll call it even."

"You're free to go, aren't you? Or do the cops want you to hang around?"

"What—to watch the building completely burn?" Len asked with a laugh. "I'm good to go. They know where to find me if they need anything else."

"Well, all right then," Mike said. "Let's get the fuck out of Dodge."

Guiding her forward, Mike led Len to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for her. As Len climbed into the cab and slumped against the seat, her eyes turned out to watch the billows of smoke rise through the parading colors of the early morning.

"Where to then, m'lady?" Mike asked as he shifted the truck into gear.

"Anywhere but here," Len breathed.

Slowly, the truck pulled out from the parking lot, leaving Freddy Fazbear's Restaurant, and the nightmares birthed there, to burn down to ashes and become nothing more than a distant, dark, memory.

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The End

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End file.
